


The Unique Properties of Dark Magic

by Shadestyle



Category: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Genre: Magic and Science, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-04-23 15:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 56,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19154203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadestyle/pseuds/Shadestyle
Summary: Given a unique perspective on negative emotion, less than a foal's knowledge of ordinary magic, a healthy schadenfreude, and danger bearing down on all sides, the self-proclaimed "Weiss Noir" makes no plans accounting for his death, and plans to keep it that way, even after being torn away from earth, turned into a unicorn, and dumped into one of the most inhospitable locations and times in all of Equestria.Stranded in the Frozen North, a place where biting cold ends lives, and one thousand years in the past, in a time when peril is the norm, rather than the exception, Weiss decides to indulge in sorcery most foul, stolen ideas, and human ingenuity to survive.Given the choice between a mad slaver and a mad sage, however, there is no avoiding an inevitable tide of ponies escaping the conquered Crystal Empire to bask in the warmth of his well-stoked hate. Something which draws attention, enemies, and most worryingly, the rivalry of his "peers".(Crossposted on Fimfiction.net)





	1. (Past Chapter 1): The Unique Properties of Desperation

My first, and most hated memory of this place is cold.

"Huh? Wh-" I say, my crusted eyes winking blearily, before a violent shiver wracks my body. 'Step one of the operation, regain vision.' I think to myself with a tiny bit of humor in my lips. I blink several more times, before groaning as a minor migraine pierces me at the sight of all the blinding white. Having never been one for bright days, this one is especially awful.

"Christ, who turned on the lights? Who turned on the fan?" I continue, trying to get up to my hands and knees as my tiger-themed blanket slips off my back. The soft and squeaky crunch of snow is my first warning that something is terribly wrong.

The second sign leaves my guts wrenching with fear, and it comes from my vision finally clearing to the sight of a seemingly endless plane of unbroken snow, coated in a whipping, violent white wind. In the distance, spires of what look like ice are coated in a malignant aura, and some part of me shudders independently of the cold as a second, new, and unnamed fear awakens in my heart. The third sign, for anyone else, might have finally pushed them from fear to terror, though in my case, I only feel a short moment of shock as my eyes discover some facts to ascribe to the current feeling of numbness that leaves my fingers and toes totally insensate. Looking down, I scramble back just far enough to sit, waist deep in the snow, as I lift my limbs up to find them finger-free.

Recognition flashes in my eyes at the sight of white, fuzzy hooves and I look behind me, craning my neck to check for the best possible result for me right now.

"No wings," I say, my concern growing, before, with some dread and clumsiness, I slowly reach up, and-

"And a horn," I finish, the fear from before turning into dread.

Most in my situation would probably be overjoyed if they equated "Horn" to "Magic", but those same people would receive a scathing retort if they tried to convince me of that right now. Sure, anywhere on... I'm assuming Equis? Anywhere on Equis that isn't this place right now, and they might be right about that, but where a set of wings might keep me warm, and, with luck, give me a way off the freezing ground-

I try to stand up, mindful of the fact that every second of me sitting down in the snow will just make me cold faster, I immediately doubt my previous assumption as the wind chill feels so much worse.

-and I'm certain an Earth Pony's natural hardiness might have given me the greatest advantage against the elements overall, this useless lump of unknown arcane biomass is currently a liability to me. With nothing but a blanket, my wits, and magic with no convenient passive benefits, my only routes to surviving the hours to nightfall, much less reaching civilization, in one fell swoop have all fallen directly into the coin slot of random chance. If that spire in the distance is the Crystal Empire, then it's currently lacking the Heart, as I immediately feel something awful and cloying just looking in it's direction. A feeling that I would be a fool to ignore when it comes from nowhere in my own mind that I can recognize. And if it's missing the heart, then that means Sombra's in the picture.

(If it's not the empire, then it's a total unknown, and going there could just as easily be as bad or worse than walking into that smug caricature's grasp.)

Of course, the alternative is staying out here and most-likely dying in a few hours from frostbite, or wandering off to try and find civilization elsewhere, and absolutely certainly dying in a few hours of frostbite.

I look up to my horn, a frown on my face. "And then there's the other gamble," I say, feeling dumb and colder for having stood up in the icy wind like this for the past few minutes while trying to decide on a course of action.

* * *

Feeling cold, dread, and its fizzier cousin, fear, I'm now sitting in a larger hole in the snow, and they will erect monuments to my craftsponyship, I'm certain. Despite my best efforts, no combination of faces, hooves, and failed magic attempts made the attempt at an Igloo any easier, and it's only by crouching down and laying on my blanket near whichever side of my pit is against the wind do I feel even the slightest relief. Another shiver wracks through my body, and I'm certain that I'm dying. The fear in my gut converts itself entirely into painful dread, feeding the sensation of my gut crushing itself that much more. Even though my body isn't shutting down yet, per say, I am certain that I'm dying. The sun slowly meanders across the sky, and in what I'm roughly measuring as an hour, I've only been getting colder.

If there's one thing worth saying about my life before this, it's that I've always had the morbid desire to die screaming. The idea of dying in my sleep, or drowning, or, as is relevant here, freezing, is terrifying. Far more terrifying than pain of any sort I've felt or can imagine. To that end, I've always felt that I'd much rather die burning or fighting, so that, up until that last moment, I'm awake and aware. An almost childish desire to not have death creep up behind me, when I least expect it, but instead face me directly. Of course, all of those intelligent, mindful thoughts characteristic of calm pondering in one's own home fall away like a broken car window when I'm facing it myself as far away from home as I can possibly be. I don't want to die.

It's around this time that the petty part of my higher brain function decides that I'm better off angry than moping over my demise as I look at a lump of packed snow in the corner of my hole, a collapsed attempt at a roof. Of all the times, and all the places, and all the races, I've been consigned to the one combination of those three that, as far as my knowledge tells me, has the lowest chance of survival. I didn't even die in my own world to get here, and now I get a measly day in this one before it comes to an end from exposure? The impending doom that my stomach is trying to remind me of quickly turns into heat in my ears as I grow frustrated with what I feel is effectively grand-theft-remainder-of-my-life as perpetrated by fate, and stomp the edge of my blanket until my front leg aches.

"Piss!" I shout, and then I shout it a few more times, just to be certain that I've shouted it enough.

I glare at the frozen lump, completely free of any shame on my own incapability to make a proper shelter against the snow, in my own mind blaming it on the circumstances. While silently resigning myself to spend my last hours spitting curses to any gods or almost-gods that can hear, the hot, feverish feeling of annoyance and hate in my ears leaves me practically blushing with anger. It's only moments later that with an almighty shout of yet another curse word, I feel something that douses me in ice water, both metaphorically, and very literally as the back of my hovel melts into my mane and blanket. The vitriol of the last minute fades at the same time as the almost purple aura I see in my vision's periphery. The hot black flame at my horn's tip, however, lasts long enough for adrenaline to flood my veins, and for me to try to use it some way, any way, before it's gone! In that brief moment, my desire to use the fire is matched by a sudden surge of seething rage to match that need.

The resulting boom rattles my ears and ruins my hole, leaving the walls a smooth, only slightly larger crater. In the center, where the frozen lumpy target of my hatred once lay, I stare directly at the pitch black bonfire that is now roaring, eating away at the ice and water itself. My eyes widen, and I shiver even worse as exhaustion from the strain hits me. With caution, I slowly step over to the flame that sucks away at the migraine inducing brightness of the blinding, almost reflective snow around me. As soon as I'm within a body's length of it, I immediately feel it. A warmth seeping into my bones from the flame's mundane component, and a strong hatred, my hatred, for the ice that I failed to tame for protection. I'm immediately reminded of a quote I once read somewhere or other.

"Your anger keeps you warm now, but will leave you cold in your grave," I can't help but mutter word-for-word, before shaking my head. I'll concern myself with the cold of the grave when I'm put there. I immediately feel a greedy ambition as I look into the swirling, warm depths that my magic turned the ice into, one I am absolutely certain is my own.

I start to chuckle, and then, I start to laugh, "Grave?!" I chortle, "Why, it seems my anger may very well keep me out of it!" I laugh hysterically against the wind's howl, before dimming back into chuckles disguising relief as my mouth is occupied dragging my blanket over me to guard against the aforementioned wind. I huddle near my fire, and try to ignore how nippy my rear is by focusing instead on the sensation of pure heat from the warmth in front of me. As I curl up and keep myself occupied thinking, I spot the simplistic black silhouette of a fire branded proudly on my hips now, its color the same shade as my own hair. A concerning development, all things considered, but thinking to myself, if there's one thing I've always been talented at, it's justifying a bad attitude.

* * *

As the sun is slowly cranked down over the horizon, and the wind is relieved of its duty by the cruel chill of night, my little bonfire has begun to smoulder down into nothing, leaving strange ashes and coals behind. I clamp down on my curiosity and end my pondering. It's almost time. In the time it took the sun to wander, I bitterly considered my options. Three months. If I remember right, that's how long it takes a human to succumb to starvation. I'd rather not find out that I'm wrong to think that a pony lasts that long by any means other than a book, which means I'm once again given a choice that isn't really one. Go into the city, or go deeper into the frozen wasteland. To that end, me and myselves reach an accord. I'll let greed and ambition take the lead when night falls, and follow my mostly baseless assumption that it will be simpler to sneak in at night.

"Said the spider to the fly," I grimace, feeling that unnamed fear take hold again.

Less than an hour later, the sun had set completely, and it was around that same time that I began to realize that I'm an idiot. I hadn't considered that I should _start_ walking to the city before sunset, so that I would reach it by nightfall. I suppose I can blame that on the mesmerizing sight of my own magic hours before, which had turned those hours into minutes as I stared, transfixed in quiet awe at the ice-drinking, light-eating fire. During that time, my mind had been practically flooded with ideas for how I could use it in the future, assuming I survived that long.

I didn't dare try to summon up the black flames again, concerned about impairing myself mentally with what my memory of the TV show told me was undeniably dark magic. In the situation I'm in, keeping my head on straight will be one of many things staving off a terrifying death. Having shook my grim thoughts aside, I fumbled for the better part of ten minutes, stumbling, gnashing, pawing the ground, and generally making a fool of myself as I tied my blanket around my neck as firmly as I dared to with only hooves and teeth to do the job. The dyed portrait of a tiger in cotton sits on my back by the end of it.

"Not much of a cape, but it's mine," I say, sucking down what comfort I can from what I now realize is the last piece of home I'll probably ever see or feel.

Drinking as much as I can of the water that's melted near the remains of my bonfire, I take a sharp, strong breath and turn to the looming Crystal Empire in the distance. Less than a minute later, I'm flat on my stomach with a smacked, bloody nose as the giant icy bowl I've made resists my efforts to climb out of it the first time, sending me slipping back down at high speed. The second time, I come to the conclusion that I'm forced to use force to crack the ice, and pound the thin layer until it breaks apart. I then scrabble my way up the cracks of it like a clumsy dog. With that comparison in my mind, I shake off the remaining ice that's tried to cling to me as fast as is reasonable, and begin the slow, methodical walk to what I desperately hope isn't my inevitable and painful doom.

* * *

After violently and angrily patting out the last embers of black fire that I made the poor choice of igniting in my mane, thinking that the rule of cool might keep me warm and unburnt in transit to the city, I commit my first crime.

"Crystal berries, crystal bread, crystal cheese..?" I mutter to myself, rooting through the pantries of a house, one of many in the outermost edges of the Crystal Empire.

"I get the other two, I guess, but where are they getting the milk for that?" I continue, before deciding not to think about it too hard as a realization nearly hits me. I take the thought, and viciously shove it back down into the cage named "Why would you even think of that", and the rest of the budding idea is sealed within its close cousin, "God, I feel sorry for any mind-readers that make it in here".

Dumping my pilfered food in the middle of my blanket, along with a healthy helping of stolen linens, I begin fumbling around, trying to tie the whole thing off. A great deal about the situation immediately confuses me. The fact that I can metaphorically taste the malice and fear in the air leaves no doubts in my mind that this place is currently not the Love-and-hope capital of the world, but if that's the case, then why would Sombra let them keep this much food for themselves? I'm obviously not going to be checking, but it implies that these ponies are still living in their homes and not some kind of crystal-mine slave camp. The only thing that absolutely makes sense is that there are a number of broken windows, one of which had been cleared out and low enough for me to slowly pull myself in without outing my innards.

As I figure out how I'm going to tie a blanket into some kind of sack, a small voice startles me. "Why are you taking our food mister?" the squeaker squeaks as I wheel about.

'Shit, I'm being Cindy Lou Who'd' I think hysterically at the small, faceted crystal pony child who walked in on my burglary. One who looks very nearly as frightened as I am.

'Well, when in Whoville...' I take a bracing breath and wrack my brain for a lie.

"Well, you see, all this food is... Smudged. I've been sent to take it to my workshop. I'll polish it until it's glittering again, and bring it back just in time for breakfast!" I force a smile.

"That's a load of ponyfeathers mister," the little rat glares at me.

I find myself filled with a characteristic annoyance "Ok, you come up with an excuse then if you're so god damn smart," I retort.

They tilt their head like small confused quadrupedal creatures are want to do. "What's a god dam?"

I pause for a beat. "Don't worry about it. Now is this the part where you start screaming your head off, or can we skip to where I try to convince you _not_ to do that?"

After a moment in clear thought, the foal decides to answer my question with another question, and responds "I thought King Sombra got rid of all the homeless ponies?"

I find myself disturbed by the implications, but decide not to question that further right now. "I'm not homeless. I'm just not from around here."

My comment causes the foal to perk up.

"That's not possible. Nopony's been able to get in or out!" she shouts, before I rapidly shush her.

She continues more quietly "The guards show up whenever anypony tries, like they knew about it already."

This prompts me to think. Ultimately, I am forced to face the fact that I have no idea why I didn't just get tackled at the border, then. Maybe I just got lucky? As I look at the kid's sad little face, I'm stricken with what is absolutely a malicious intent to lie and get the hell out of here, and not at all an urge to pull some noble Robin Hood nonsense.

"Tell you what. You let me walk out of here with this food, and I'll figure out how I gave those guards the slip, and you'll be the first to know."

"Sound like a plan, Stan?" I finish, holding up a hoof.

"My name's not Stan, it's Glitter Miss Priss," she says, unsure and looking at my outstretched leg as though it's a viper someone's trying to convince her to pet.

"I will forever call you Stan unless you go along with this," I ultimatum her.

If looks could kill, I'd be deader than chivalry I suspect, as she looks ready to start screaming just to spite me.

Her resolve to introduce herself to the fine art of pissing me off finally cracks like a pre-omlette and she bumps my hoof. "Fine."

"Good call Priss," I say, strapping the crude sack of food and cloth to my back as best as I can.

Before I start to heft myself out of the window and run like makeup, she decides that she simply MUST ask the most awkward question possible. "Where will you be going?"

"Oh I've got a magnificent palace of the highest possible quality waiting for me just outside," I trail off sarcastically as she glares softly at me.

"You don't have anywhere to go, do you," her verbal arrow strikes, annoying me.

I glare right back. "And? I can't exactly stay in Sombra's glass bear-trap," I gesture awkwardly around me.

"You could hide here though, the guards obviously don't know you're here," She points out logically, like some sort of irrational sadist.

"And your parents?" I raise an eyebrow, secretly hoping she has an answer that means I don't have to go back out in that damnable cold yet.

She matches my raise, putting her own eyebrow in the pot with a respectable poker face. "They don't know you're here either."

'Well, she's got me there.' I think as she leads me to a closet under the stairs that looks big enough to fit almost two adults if they stood on top of one another. Harry Potter, eat your heart out. I crunch my way through some of the pilfered crystal berries and grimace at my picky taste buds rebelling against the sour-sweet flavor. I never notice the obsidian eye that had rolled into the kitchen before my conversation with Priss as it follows me. I also fail to notice it's soft purple light from under the closet door as it softly pings out a signal as I sleep.

* * *

I wake up to loud pounding, not from inside my head for once in my life, but from the vile and bright outside world. After a respectable moment spent realizing that this is real, and last night wasn't just an extremely long, complex, and realistic dream, I slowly pop the door open. I peek out into the adjoined hall to see a trio of ponies talking to a trio of guards. Looks like Priss and her parents are being questioned. The mustached amber colored stallion seems to be explaining in no uncertain terms that the guards can search the whole house, and that they won't resist. Of course, at the same time, I realize what this means and calmly panic as the three guards make their way in, having gotten all they need out of Priss's parents, and prepared to get all that they need out of their house, namely, me.

I slowly, calmly, and above all else, quietly step on something that crunches loudly. Thankfully, the crash from me slipping on it is more than loud enough to catch their attention, if the thing I just stepped on hadn't been loud enough on it's own. As I tumble to the floor and smash my nose for the second time in as many days, I hear stomping that easily reminds me of what I'm facing, heavily armored, well-fed looking guards who do not necessarily understand what "Police Brutality" means. With these thoughts in my mind, I mentally shove the panic off my neck, swallow my currently absent pride, and bolt!

It's around this point that I'm made aware of a pretty simple fact, trained, healthy and motivated crystal pony guards will run faster than a hungry, effectively day-old unicorn. The thing that makes me the most aware of this is that within two seconds, my lungs are expelling my precious air, and my spine is pressed down along with the rest of me by what feels like a metric ton of crystalline armored stallion. My limbs are painfully bent behind me, and I summon up black fire for some desperate attack. Before I get the chance to waste my remaining energy on an attack that has almost no chance of helping me escape, I feel their grip on me slacken and I take advantage of this to scramble free, kicking and yelling before slipping free of the dead weight.

I turn around, ready for a fight now that running has failed and my blood is boiling with annoyed anger, I'm confused to see the guards just stand there, slackjawed and blank-faced. I take a few steps back, but they just sit there like they can't see me for what feels like minutes to me, but is more likely mere moments. Looking up at the black fire on the tip of my horn, and back to their glazed, far-off expressions, I decide not to look this gift horse in the mouth, and stumble away, wanting nothing more than to beat them into a pulp, but cognizant of my opportunity to escape while they're off in lala land.

I feel more pain than almost any other I've felt before as I stumble over to the window, throw myself out of it slowly, and try to limp my way out of town while holding the black fire spell on my horn like a lifeline, feeling nothing but anger and distrust for the idiotic rubes who are staring at me fearfully from their windows in the early hours of the morning. It seems to take forever, but after slow, meandering and stumbling step after step, I walk out of the Crystal Empire and into the blistering cold beyond with nothing but stained cotton and mashed food to show for it. Angrily flicking my head at the hated snow to start a new bonfire burning it, I feel like splattering that damned brat across the frozen wastes when I realize her and her traitorous parents had followed me right out of the city. This thought in my mind, I black out from exhaustion as the last drop of magic finally completes it's task in summoning up the ice-burning fire.


	2. (Noir Report) A Clear-Headed Report on Unclear Findings [Black Flame]

Foreword

With a mind currently unclouded by unnatural emotion do I begin this short journal. Thank god for crystal ink and black paper. I've always enjoyed white writing on a black medium. Some small pleasure to help me cope with this foreign land. And an easy sight to sooth my poor eyes in this bright country.

In memory of my homeland's delightful stories, I believe I'll title this book Grimoire Noir. A name I'm sure none in Equestrian or beyond will find reference to.

* * *

Entry #1, Day 3

Until such time that I learn the pony who rightfully discovered this spell first, I will take the liberty of speaking of it in my own ignorant terms, such that a fresh perspective can be had on what seems to be the simplest dark magic. One so simple in fact, that it is the first of any magic that I have learned to summon in my life. The moment I cast that spell was also the moment I had discovered my special talent, when my fear turned to frustration, and then anger, my horn had erupted with a toxic purple aura, and at it's tip, a black fire began burning, drinking in the light. I thus name the spell Black Flame.

When I cast it at a chunk of packed snow that had been frustrating my attempts to shape it into shelter, the flame crashed into it with the force of a charging bull, and exploded in a wash of heat that turned the snow around it into smooth ice. In the center, the black fire had grown, and had begun to devour the ice, burning it away into what I believe is nothing at all. The heat from this fire saved my life from the bitter cold, and made me realize my talent.

One thing worth noting, however, is that, though it's use requires relatively little skill, it's downsides are many. First and foremost among them being an increase in the user's aggression and a strange, mental pollution that dampens other, interfering emotions. Like a chain reaction, the emotion required to evoke this fire is also created by it. Even being near the flame created evokes a feeling of malice towards whatever it is burning for those who are warmed by it.

The first time I cast it was also the first time I learned of the exhaustion inherent to casting spells. It is now that I look back to that time that where the evocation of emotion drained magic from me, the sensation of emotion restored this lost vital essence. As I grew frustrated during a long journey afterwards, and then, amused at the idea of a mane of the black flames, I felt my vitality return faster and faster at the amusing thought, and the imagined scenario of others seeing me with it. This culminated in the foolish decision to attempt it, one which my poor tattered mane attests to even as I write this. Let this be the moral of that anecdotal experimentation, then, that the Black Flame should only be cast on something one wishes burnt.

Experimentation taken after that point in the safety of a new shelter raised worrying questions to which I have few answers. As I began to test the black flame more and more, I found myself forced to overcome a grudge against the mundane objects I cast the spell on once I had concluded my tests. Thankfully, as they are obliderated for my continued warmth, overcoming this strange, petty desire for vengeance against ice, snowballs, and a piece of cheese was not too painful a process. I am unsure whether the grudge was born from using the magic itself, which may mean an unavoidable loss of sanity with each casting, or if those grudges were the result of the emotions evoked by the magic conditioning me rapidly with a petty dislike by association.

That is to say, it may very well be my own personality that causes me to take offense against something merely because I had felt strongly about it at one time. Though I am cautious and will strive to be respectful of this spell, I have not changed my former feelings towards it. If I master and harness this magic, I could perform operations on my own that I thought lost to me in this land, such as milling, forging, and smelting. Heat is heat, and the flame consumes what I deem it's fuel. If I could narrow my frustration, and better manage my anger, will the flame become more controlled as well? It's worth testing, and I plan to do exactly that. Maybe I could attempt cutting with it next?

I am unsure if this is a property of the Black Flame, or a property of the mind control spell I pit it against, but, when faced with those whose minds had been put under another's thrall, my noxious fire seemed to mesmerize them, leaving them frozen and unwilling to take action against me. I'm unable to test this further at this time, and to be frank, any sort of serious, long term testing feels a bit unethical to me. I'll simply have to keep my eyes open. If the future goes as I expect it to, there will be no shortage of those whose minds are impaired by other Dark Magic users, and no shortage of situations in which I am forced to evoke that all-consuming fire of hate.

One minor quirk of the Black Flame that I did not feel worth noting at the time, when I had turned it against snow, despite snow being made of ice and water, the flame left behind coals, ashes, and glittering fragments. It might be a worthless byproduct, but never in my life have I ascribed to the notion that worthless byproducts exist. Instead, I will refer to it as I believe it to be, a potential reagent. I'll call this new substance Cold Ash. Perhaps next, I should seek to mix it with iron, eh? Cold Iron? ...No?


	3. (Present Chapter 1): The Return of Light: Part 1

The tawny griffon looks shocked at the blue pegasus calling her out in front of the other nearby ponies, whose confusion up until this point had been steadily increasing at her behavior.

"Y-you, you are such ab- au- a-" She stutters, before finding her words "A flip-flop! Cool one minute, and lame the next!"

Walking towards the door, she turns back with a scowl and continues. "When _you_ decide not to be lame anymore, gimme a call." she snarls, slamming the door shut behind her as she leaves with a loud rattle and a shaking window pane as her final punctuation.

"... _Not_ cool." The polychromatic maned pegasus says with a frown to the closed door.

The short, stout dragon next to her pipes up at this point, splaying his arms akimbo and turning to face her with a befuddled blink.

"Wow, what a party-pooper!" he says, prompting the other ponies at the party to begin questioningly mumbling among themselves about what had just happened.

"I'm sorry everypony, for bringing Gilda here. I didn't realize how rude she was." Rainbow Dash says, her eyes downcast.

* * *

In an old ruined section of park often frequented by apathetic-looking griffons, an older and worn-looking statue stands impassively over the loud racket happening under its hooves. The marble statue depicts a pony standing at attention, their muzzle pointed upwards ever so slightly with a covetous and satisfied expression as they gaze into an ancient copper oil lamp clutched protectively in draconic claws. The statue further depicts the pony as having six scaled limbs attached to it, socketed around the pony's own shoulders and neck. Five of the limbs are folded behind its back, while the sixth reaches out and holds the lamp firmly, clamping the lamp's copper wick cover closed as if to admire it.

A worn, gold plaque at the bottom once read "The Adversary", and it might still have said that to this day if it hadn't been stolen days after the statue was delivered there.

The statue itself, however, resolutely ignores the borderline ranting occurring at its feet.

"Stupid ponies. Stupid Ponyville!" Gilda hisses, stomping back and forth in front of the statue with her tail whipping violently side to side.

"I hate them, I hate them all, and I hate Rainbow Dash too!" she shouts, trying her hardest to hold back bitter tears. Ones she failed to hold back the day before.

The moon shining overhead almost seems to acquire a colder tint to its shine for Gilda alone as she glares at the statue, hating the fact that not even Griffonstone is 100% pony free.

Her glare rapidly fades as something tickles the sides of her head near her ears, and a chill runs up and down her spine.

"Hate is such a strong word, dear." she hears whispered right next to her, the chill from before intensifying as she scrambles away from the statue backwards.

"What the flock, who said that?!" The griffon shouts, head darting from side to side as her pupils dilate to spot the hidden offender.

"Why, Gilda, just your biggest fan." The voice whispers smugly.

"How do you know my name, freak-o!" she squawks. "Show yourself!"

"Oh I have an approximate knowledge of many things. For example, I know you don't really hate Rainbow Dash." The voice says, ignoring her second demand.

Gilda, by this point becomes incensed as her anger overrides her fear.

"Uh, yeah, I'm pretty sure I do, creep! You don't know anything!"

The voice puts on airs and simply responds condescendingly. "If you hated her dear, then why does the way she treated you hurt so badly?"

Gilda bristles at this even more, but doesn't have an answer.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush, Gilda. I'm here to help you." The voice continues hesitantly, after a moment.

"I can teach you tricks so awesome, Dash will be all over you. I know her nearly as well as I know you, in fact. You help me to help you, and..."

The voice chuckles "Well, her _true_ nature won't let her abandon you again after that." The voice croons sweetly.

Gilda is frozen with indecision, the emotional roller-coaster she has been stumbling off of for the past day leaving her unsure. "Y-yeah?"

"Yeah." The voice confirms. "Just imagine it, it would be like your first day of Junior Speedsters again. My payment is thus. Become my apprentice until I feel you've learned my lessons, and I'll put you right back in Dashie's good graces."

Despite the eerie feeling Gilda had felt up until this point, she can't help but remember the good times she had with her best friend, and her resolve becomes galvanized.

"It's a deal!"

The voice chuckles again, much more darkly this time. Smoke begins wafting down from the almost completely sealed wick-cover of the lamp.

"Good, good! Now you just have to do one simple thing."

"And what's that?" Gilda snarks.

For a moment, Gilda nearly mistakes her surroundings for some sort of icy blizzard as the voice says in a soft, terrifyingly dark tone, emitted from the statue's lamp. " _Free Me._ "

* * *

"This _can't_ be that complicated, it's just a hunk of rock, right?" The voice says with a nonexistent raised eyebrow and exasperated tone.

"Look man, I don't know what to tell you, It's coming off when I get it off, now shut up for a second, I think I've got it this time." Gilda retorts, making her fifth attempt in as many minutes to pull the lamp out of the statue's grip.

"Grrr-whoooOof!" Gilda shouts, flopping to the ground when her violent tug fails to pull it free from the marble pony.

"Just use a crowbar or something. It'll be faster, Christ-" The voice attempts, before Gilda interrupts.

"Faster? I'll show you faster, and I don't need no stinkin' crowbar to do it!"

With an Eagle-like screech, Gilda leaps into the air, and crashes into the statue claws-first after building up speed high in the air above it. The impact immediately cracks the stone arm off, sending it tumbling to the ground with a rousing "Crack!".

Gilda brushes herself off with a beaky grin, before yanking up the stone arm and hefting it over her head in both talons.

"And my name's not Christ." she finishes, slamming it down and crushing the carefully carved claws around the lamp into the statue's base.

The lamp tumbles free, clanking several times with a series of "Ow"s, before halting in midair and righting itself.

Twisted, delighted laughter fills the air as the lamp rattles, unleashing a torrent of black smoke that swirls around it, matched only by the blazing pillar of flame that erupts from it's center.

The smoke is blown away to reveal the very pony that the statue had been clearly modeled after, one whose size is average, whose coat is white, and whose mane is a maelstrom of black fire. A pristine, ivory horn juts from their head, and their purple eyes bore into Gilda as his draconic arms fold behind him onto his back. The limbs, bent as they are, transition from dragon to pony with some sort of glittering grey metal between them.

Spotting the lamp he had been trapped in, he lazily picks it up in his magical aura, examining it before his eyes light up with amusement. "One thousand years..!"

"Will give you such a pain in the neck!" he smiles to himself, looking to see Gilda's reaction.

"I thought you were like, a genie or something." Gilda says skeptically, crushing the stallion's expression into mock disappointment.

"So you're saying you don't recognize the Illustrious Sage of Darkness, Weiss Noir!?" The pony preens, puffing up his chest and pouting.

"The master of The Shadow Realm, the creator of over one hundred black magic spells? No spooky campfire stories or claims that I come after bad little griffons?"

Gilda's expression becomes no less sour. "And why would I know some dumb old pony from like, a thousand years ago?"

Weiss's expression turns curious, and his eyes obtain a hard, unknown glint. "You're serious, aren't you?"

After a moment, his expression softens, and he closes his eyes with a shrug. "Well, far be it from me to hold it against you."

"Let's hash out business elsewhere. I'm not certain that I'll remain unrecognized if enough griffons see me." And with that, Weiss begins walking off in a random direction.

"And uhh, where exactly do you think you're going, gramps?" Gilda retorts, prompting him to stop.

"I was going to go somewhere and summon up a quick castle, why do you ask?" He responds with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm pretty sure plenty of griffons will see you if you do that, dweeb. We'll do this thing at my place." She says, jerking her thumb back towards where her hut is.

Weiss looks surprised, before nodding. "Right, right... I'm used to a bit more isolation, I'm afraid." He explains sheepishly.

* * *

"Silver wolf's fame, no. Joke'd Luna's mane, no." Weiss mumbles, tossing summoned bottles of mercurial metal and cotton-candy colored stardust behind him as he draws purple circles in the air with his horn to summon up more.

"So you're some kind of pony wizard, gramps?" Gilda says, munching on a scone while reclining near her crackling firepit, watching his frustration mount with no shortage of amusement on her part.

"Expired aspira, aspired ex-pyre, no..." He grumbles, before jolting. "Er, yes, basically. My special talent is dark magic, which everyone else is either too crazy or too dumb to study properly." He says ironically.

"God Damn it, where is the-!" He stutters, before a bottle clocks him in the head from a portal above. He snatches it out of the air with a claw before it can hit the ground.

"Ah! Ok, good, This is what I need." He holds up a bottle filled with a red fluid. The fluid inside thrashes around, occasionally, liquid fangs leap from it's surface to snap at nothing. A label on the bottle simply reads "Haterade".

He waits for Gilda to ask "What's that?", but when she just smirks at him and doesn't, he finally cracks with a grimace.

"Fine. It's a special potion that I've used in the past, to train my guards to harness dark magic spells and keep them hydrated." He says with a tone like a kicked puppy.

"Made from a unique, and highly coveted blend of rage poison, brine, and recently, windego ectoplasm, this version of Haterade is the most potent that my alchemist had learned to produce, and is guaranteed to enhance one's magical potential to staggering new heights while renewing their arcane strength."

"Uhh, I don't know if you hit your head coming out of that lamp, but griffons don't cast spells." She says, staring at it dubiously.

Gilda decides to continue speaking when a glob of it leaps onto the glass and snarls at her before sliding back down into the remainder of it. "I'm not drinking that."

"Good, my potions are too strong for you traveler. I was planning to water it down to almost nothing anyway... As I do for the rabble." he snarks with a smirk.

Gilda frowns angrily. "I am _not_ rabble, and if drinking that junk is how I gotta prove it, then hand it over." She jerks her claw out demanding.

"You can't handle my potions... They're too strong for you!" He recites.

The griffon stands up and stomps over to Weiss until he's shoved into the wall.

"I wasn't asking." She whispers, grabbing it.

"Erm, wait. Jokes aside, you absolutely do not need to drink that in here." Weiss says, a hint of caution entering his previously jovial tone.

She smirks, shaking up the bottle a bit to agitate whatever's inside "And why not?"

"Because it is going to make your temper so short that it would be barred from carnival rides, and I enjoy my head not only having teeth in it, but also lacking fists where they once were." He answers honestly, before realizing that won't dissuade the already short-tempered griffon, and continuing with something more substantial.

"And once you learn what I have to teach you with it, you'll have to pick your friend's jaw off the floor when she sees what you're capable of." He goads Gilda, confident she'll take the bait.

After several long moments, and a suspicious glance between Weiss and his potion, she relents. "Fine, but this stuff better somehow make me Wonderbolt material, gramps. I don't think-"

'Anything less will convince Dash after yesterday.' goes through her mind, but not out of her mouth. She changes topics.

"How do you know so much anyway? Are you a spy?" Gilda interrogates, setting the bottle on a squat table next to her.

"I have the gift of prophesy. Much better than that hack, Tealeaf Pie." Weiss says with a confidence borne of having said it a lot before.

"Then how did you get caught?" she points out, looking at the lamp Weiss had been inhabiting up until an hour ago.

Weiss just smiles sadly. "Everyone makes mistakes, Gilda."

He looks out the window, spotting the moon in transit. "Let's get some rest, hmm? You've got a very busy day tomorrow."

"Whatever gramps. You just hold up your end of the bargain." Gilda rolls her eyes, before plodding off to her room.

Weiss simply trots up to the firepit and stares into it, glitter in his eyes and exhaustion that imprisonment didn't cure in his body. Mindful of the smouldering coals, he collapses into an obsidian smoke and settles among the ashes, having exhausted himself pretending at corporeality. The lamp nearby flickers with black fire at it's wick.

* * *

"So me getting mad is going to somehow make me better at flying?" Gilda says skeptically, looking at the sports-drink bottle of Haterade in her hand, which Weiss had painstakingly wheedled her into allowing him to water down.

"No, it's going to make you better at magic." Weiss corrects, stepping over a bush as they make their way into the brush for training.

"The first thing you need to learn is that a horn doesn't make magic possible. It doesn't even make the magic stronger. It just makes it easy."

"How do you think you were able to breathe fire when you ate that spicy candy at Pinkie Pie's party?" He says.

Gilda, ignoring how he knew about that, shrugs and takes a swig of the tainted water. "It was really hot, so I guess it caught fire? I don't know, cut me some slack, gramps, I'm not some dumb egghead."

Weiss just shakes his head with a hum "It just tasted really hot. But it made you _feel_ like your mouth was on fire, and it made you _want_ to get it out of your mouth."

"That's the only secret to magic. What you want, and how that makes you feel. Everything else is just, as you might say, egghead hogwash that helps you get there." Weiss says, prompting Gilda to think.

"So I want to fly fast, and that's supposed to make me... mad?" She asks rhetorically as they make it into a small clearing with a burbling river running through it, a rabbit scrambling away at the sight of intruders.

He nods. "A horn makes for easier magic, but that doesn't matter when dark magic is the easiest. If you can get it started, and know what you want to happen, the magic itself will make your emotions strong enough, and of the correct type to do what you need done. Any other kind of magic, and it wouldn't work correctly, or even at all, unless you had the strong, correct emotions in the first place, and the correct mindset to capitalize on it."

He gestures to the bottle, which Gilda had taken the past few minutes to slowly drain down.

"The potion just helps you get that spark. With training, you won't even need that. You'll know what you need to feel and focus on, and the advantage of experience besides."

"But enough theory. It is now time for your first lesson. I want you to punch that tree as hard as you can." Weiss says, summoning a bottle of blue medical liquid and several rolls of bandages.

"Uhh, I'm supposed to be learning to fly better, remember gramps? You going senile on me-ACK!" Gilda quacks when her side gets whipped by a bandage held in a purple glow.

" _What the flock was that for?!_ " Gilda shouts, claws grinding into the dirt as she clenches them.

"You're here to learn to get mad and know what you want out of it." Weiss states.

"Now pretend that that tree is standing between you and not getting another ironic round of 'Gilda gets whipped by a bandage instead of tended to by one'." Weiss says with a faint smirk, already backing up when Gilda shrieks and rushes him.

His attempts to slyly dodge her attack as part of the lesson fail when her rapid movement wins out against his inferior senses, and she pummels his side hard enough to send him to the ground, the scales on his arms scuffed up by the grass, and a nasty purple blooming where the strike landed.

Gilda clenches her teeth as she places her right talons on the disoriented unicorn's head and leans down. "I know what you're doing, and I'm not doing any of this sneaky sensei crap, you teach me right or we're done." she snarls.

Weiss simply laughs, prompting her to shove his head away and back up for his answer.

"Fine, you're obviously too smart for it anyway." He says, standing to his feet and undoing his bruise with a slow, drawn out flash of white magic.

"You're mad at me, so we'll be using that to train you. You're mad at yourself, so we'll use that too." He states simply.

Brushing himself off with his arms, he continues, pointing to the tree he pointed out before. "I'd like you to punch that tree until you can break it. That's the point when I know you can get mad enough to draw power from it, and you'll never get that mad the first time with flying alone. Is that _right_ enough for you?"

"Yeah, it's right enough gramps." She sneers happily, before walking over to begin disturbing the flora.

While the griffon is distracted, Weiss's illusion fails, and the bruise on his side returns to visibility, prompting him to casually cover it with a few of his draconic arms.

'It takes so long to clean grass stains off' he groans internally, resolving to begin constructing new cleaning artifacts as soon as is feasible.

'Thankfully, it shouldn't take nearly as long to make Gilda more dangerous than she thinks she is'

* * *

"So what's with these freaky eyes, gramps?" Gilda says with a shallow frown aimed at the river, where her reflection is emitting a hazy green from the corners of it's eyes when she blinks.

"Well, it means you're performing the magic correctly. Don't ask me why, my best theory is that it has something to do with eye boogers. And that can't be right." Weiss jokes, prompting Gilda to chuckle.

Her chuckle turns into a glare after Weiss suddenly clapping briskly startles her from her self-examination "Right! You're ready, then. You've already started using dark magic to enhance most probably every muscle in your body, all you need to do now is acclimate to flying like that." He says in order to dim her violent stare.

"Now we're talking. I already feel great, I can't wait to see what my babies do now that I'm juiced up like this!" she says, hopping from side to side.

Weiss simply smiles fondly, and hands over another sports-drink container in his magical grip.

"Hydration is important." He says.

"Yeah, that's probably the only thing about flying you know, gramps, but thanks anyway." she says, snatching it out of the air before guzzling it down.

As she finishes, she tears the bottle in half, lets out a roar, and leaps into the air, which Weiss ignores in favor of the row of trees Gilda had started to fell one after the other.

"I wonder if I should warn her about the dangers of magical exhaustion?" Weiss wonders out loud.

'Eh. She'll learn my lessons better on her own terms.' He ultimately thinks to himself, looking at the aerial fright train that's currently pounding the local cloud population into extinction.

* * *

"Ok, the eyes are one thing, but this is kinda ticking me off gramps. I kinda want to know this stuff before it happens, got it?" Gilda says angrily, looking at her wings, which had begun to leave a purple contrail mid-flight after a few days of practice.

Weiss simply shrugs at the now glow-capable appendages. "It means your training is nearing it's completion. You can now consistently cast... Well, by all practical definitions, a spell, albeit not one you can brag about in polite company, dark magic and all."

"I've seen it happen to pegasi, but I've never taught a griffon before. It's perfectly normal, and simply means that you've begun to draw out the anger you need to get what you want, without having to think about it." he says proudly, arms folded behind his back.

"...I mean, I guess it looks pretty cool." She says, looking unequipped to handle the praise.

"But that's not the point, am I going to end up puking pink next or something? I'm going to be very angry if I keep getting new colors and start glowing in weird places." She says, taking a threatening step towards him.

"Look, unless you start casting regular spells, which shouldn't be possible without some work you aren't doing, you've reached the limits of griffon incandescence. Dark magic is pretty universally purple in color, and it's users emit green from their eyes. That's standard, and there's not really any more unexpected side effects from just self-enhancement magic." Weiss says as he backs up, realizing that a female with an unwittingly altered appearance and a magically intensified temper are two things that need not be combined with anything but careful wording and quick speaking.

Gilda levels a stare at him and freezes it there until she feels he's been sufficiently intimidated. His place now having had him put in it to her satisfaction, she grins and ends the tense mood with a simple question.

"What's next?"

* * *

"I think I'm ready." Gilda says, flexing her claws with a grin as she lifts a tree with flight alone, having suffered magical exhaustion several times to raise her endurance to this point with the help of watered down tonics and plenty of her "famous" scones.

"You may very well be, Gilda." Weiss frowns, nibbling around the twigs in his own scone.

"Yeah, I've gotten pretty awesomer." she nods, swinging the log slowly back and forth before letting it crash down to the ground, sending birds flying from the trees at the sudden shaking.

Flapping down to the new wooden bottle that Weiss had had to manufacture, she looks down into it with an uncomprehending eye.

"Aww dang, it's empty. Mind giving me a refill?" she complains, shaking the cup from side to side.

"If you're ready, you shouldn't need any." Weiss says with a hidden smile.

Gilda thinks about this for a moment, before scoffing. "Whatever, I might need a little pick-me-up between reps if I'm going to impress Dash. Come on, don't leave me hanging here gramps." She complains with a pout.

Weiss pauses, and looks to the side in contemplation, before floating the mostly-full bottle of concentrated Haterade over to her.

"I'm trusting you to dilute this yourself, Gilda. Just a sip's worth is enough for a whole cup of water." he applies a serious look to his face, and then points it at her.

"What, you're not coming with? And here I thought the Illustrious Weiss Noir, Sage of Dorkness, would want to show off how he just got finished training Equestria's new best flier without so much as a feather of his own?" Gilda poses to Weiss, taking the bottle in claw.

"Well I have no intention of babysitting you, I do have things that need to be done." he says, leading the conversation to the point where he can accept her offer.

Gilda just gives him a blank look, glancing around the clearing. "Yeah, I can see that." she deadpans.

Returning her look with interest, Weiss relents. "Fine, I'll go with you to Ponyville, but no babysitting. I'm there to observe whether you've learned all my lessons yet, and ensure that our debts are squared."

"Sure thing gramps. You'll be singing a different tune when Rainbow Dash is eating my dust." she smirks.

Weiss shrugs with a faint smile "Gilda, our little Dashie isn't going to know what hit her."


	4. (Weiss Report) Chug [Estus and Bonfires]

Foreword

As it turns out, the ponies of this world write in horsey wing-dings instead of plain English. I'll be sure to have my old Noir Journal translated after I learn to write in their language. This one, however, I'm going to leave locked firmly behind a language barrier. It wouldn't do me much good if ponies started thinking I'm some kind of freaky otherworldy alien instead of just an ordinary crazed cultist corrupt with fell magics. That besides, I'm going to be putting my human sciency stuff in here too, and I'm not one-hundred percent sure that won't do some bad shit if it gets out.

In the event someone does find a way to read this, I'll repeat myself, and name this one Grimoire Weiss. Good luck figuring out that reference, you fuzzy code-breaking dorks.

* * *

Entry One, Day Seven

So I figured out what that Cold Ash stuff was, turns out it's like, not-ice. Apparently, when I use hatefire on stuff, it can only burn the stuff I actually hate, up to a certain point. So all that ash and coals and little glassy bits, that stuff was actually like, all the parts of water that are fundamentally not ice? I mean, that's the running theory. I say that because even though it's all solid, you can't actually melt it or anything. And it's also crazy flammable, like, with regular fire. But it doesn't make a hot fire, it makes this kind of orange glowy fire that feels like you're just sticking your hoof in water. It's pretty cool, not going to lie. And I mean, I'm not lying, because the fire is literally cool, well, lukewarm really, but that's cool for a fire.

The reason I decided to make this report here, on this fancy white book instead of my ordinary culty tome is because I'm totally going to use this to steal stuff from dark souls, and absolutely nopony is going to understand what the hell I'm talking about if I write it in the Noir book. Basically, I'm going to try and figure out how to use this stuff to make like, estus flasks. If I can put like, healing potions in with it, it'd be like making a spray bottle but with medicine, yeah? Yeah, this is going to be sick. To that end, I've ground up the Cold Ash, mixed it with whatever healing crystals my dudes can whip up for me, and relabeled it in a new bottle while I work out the details. I'll call this new craft mat Aspired Ex-pyre, because I'm very clever and my wordplay is to be envied by all.

* * *

Entry Two, Day Twenty-Eight

So the new stuff doesn't work yet.

I figured it wouldn't be that simple, but come on, it was worth a shot, right? Waterfire, healing crystals, toss em together and you get bonfires and estus flasks. Turns out, the aqua fire from that doesn't actually like, MOVE the crystals or the healing energy in them anywhere. So I'm left with burnt out powder and untapped healing dust. I'll need to figure out something to make the crystals get all flamey too. I would say, "just use hatefire", but to be frank, that sounds like a terrible idea. I mean, it would probably work great if I could make a Black Flame, but without the whole "Malicious corruptive hatred and ability to burn through nearly anything" aspect. Maybe there's like, a normal magic equivalent? Oh right, there's that thing dragons can do. Maybe I can figure out how to get me some of that, I mean, the noble ponyvilleian equine bookhorn never seemed to complain about getting singed in the show, if I remember right.

Until then, I've got a whole bunch of bottles of this shit that I also don't have a use for. Probably shouldn't have made so much. I'll work out something to do with it, given some time.

* * *

I've made a terrible, hilarious mistake. I figured I would just see what would happen, anyone would. I toss a bottle of Aspired Ex-pyre into a small Black Flame and, well.

Nobody got hurt, but I'm pretty sure I'll be waking up to ponies dumping snow on me in the morning for a few weeks.

How the heck was I supposed to know that hatefire and healing crystals and water powder all put together made harmless, but entirely effective regular fire?

It didn't help that I just kept laughing after the bystanders returned, sans-hair. I seriously didn't think a bald pony would look that hilarious.

Apparently, they didn't think so either.

* * *

Far away from any bystanders, and against their express wishes, I went ahead and tried it again under more controlled circumstances, and received a similar result with far fewer dust-explosions. It's actually very interesting how the fire is able to burn nearly anything but living flesh. I get a strange feeling looking at it, one I can't put my finger on. I mean, I don't have a finger to put on it, but I can't put my hoof on it either. The point is, looking at it evokes some weird, not-hate emotion, and it's able to burn anything that isn't people. Could be useful. I doubt anyone would like my suggestion for a cheap barber though, so I'll have to put some actual, serious thought into how it could be used. Bleh, my least favorite kind of thought.

Maybe I could use it to like, free ponies from ice or chains or something. I mean, that's a bit of a niche use, but whatever.

Well, this is Weiss Noir, signing off.

* * *

Entry Three, Day Twenty-Nine

Wait, shit, I'm so stupid, I literally just made hatefire without the "people burning" part. I'll just use this new Friendly Fire on some Aspired Ex-Pyre and...!

* * *

Well it's not my precious sunny-d, but I think I'll accept this blue raspberry estus knockoff as though it were my own. By applying the Friendly Fire to the Aspired Ex-pyre after doing some magic stuff that's hard to explain to make it not eat the bottle, I've basically got a backdraft in a bottle. Pop the cork, the fire suddenly has a ton of... I guess air is feeding it. It doesn't really act like fire. I'm getting off topic. Friendly Fire and Aspired Ex-Pyre go into a bottle, and raspberry blue explosions come out, leaving not a minty fresh scent, but rather, a huge flaming wave of "no more ouchies". I feel like a goddamn genius, even though the bottle form is basically only good for minor scrapes.

The actual firepit I made with the stuff is like the world's best spa treatment though. As if a hot-tub and a shower came with pop-rocks and sweet delicious medical care.

Shame it's so expensive, though. My dudes can only make so many healing crystals as it stands. I'll send them a few bottles and tanks for emergencies, and then stop wasting their supplies for my dumb indulgences.

Actually, that's not a bad name for it, to be honest.

I'll start calling stuff like this "Indulgences". It's not like anyone but me is going to appreciate the references anyway even if I tried to explain them to these ponies.

PS. Ok, it's just going to hurt me later if when I go over this if I don't TRY to explain, but I basically had to figure out that weird emotion and figure it out so I could mess with the Friendly Fire's targeting system. I guess the best way to describe the feeling is that feeling of "I need to get rid of some garbage I have lying around, and I know I'll feel better when it's done".

It's not really completely accurate, but those fiddly positive emotions rarely are.


	5. (Past Chapter 2): Hopeful Ultimatum

My second, and fondest memory of this place is warmth.

"Mmm." I murmur, when something pokes me in the side, a short while after this, the dull ache saturating my mortal shell starts to groggily wake up as well, giving me its own, all-encompassing greeting.

"Hey mommy, I think he's waking up!" I hear from what my ears tell me is a nearby dog-toy squeaking, but my memory of last night informs me is actually Priss.

She pokes me again, eliciting an "Mmmph" of abject pain from me. As I open my eyes slowly to avoid the sun's bitter morning assault, I notice that my white brick surroundings are actually comfortably and dimly lit from small windows.

"Glitter, leave the poor colt alone." Someone says, prompting me to drag my sightlines around the modest room. I spot benches made of ice, squat cubic chairs made of snow, and even what looks like an empty doorway into more rooms on my eye's journey over to who spoke.

"Da-ugh" tumbles from my lips as I wrench myself further into the waking world and attempt language once more.

"Where are we?" I question, not recognizing my surroundings by the time I arrive to an orange pony with some sort of pink bun for a mane, and a hammer, chisel, and crystal for a cutie mark. The mare had been sitting nearby, a table next to her covered in chunks of ice in bowls.

Before the mare can speak up, Priss takes the liberty of going berserk "We're outside the empire!" she cheers, hopping around the room as though she had drank The Flash's coffee.

"Yes, we are." The larger mare nods, before answering my actual question. "We're still where you collapsed, Glitter Bomb, my husband, said that we shouldn't move you while you're unconscious, so we built a shelter around your fire."

My jaw loosens as I glance around the room again. It's around this point I realize that the walls themselves are made of some sort of polished ice brick.

"H-how long was I out?" I say, disbelieving how they somehow built an entire house while I was asleep.

"Oh, just a few hours." She answers, baffling me.

Before I can properly consider how fast they would have had to work to do that, she continues with a firmer tone of voice and begins to ask some questions of her own. "May I ask your name? Mine is Whittle. Whittle Miss Priss."

Well, at least the naming convention is consistent. Unfortunately for her, I have absolutely zero intention of giving anyone in Equestria my real name.

In the process of thinking up a suitable pseudonym to give her, I spot my distinctly white horn out of the upper corner of my vision, poking out of my distinguishing black mane.

"Weiss." I lie. "Weiss Noir."

She gives me a funny look and mangles it. "Ice No-Are?"

"No. Weiss, Weiss Noir.

"Wise Now-R?"

"Weiss..." A pause "Noir..." I slowly finish.

"It's uhh." My mind goes blank for a minute. The griffons all had German names, right?

"It's a griffon name." I explain, which seems to satisfy her.

"Well, Weiss, I have to admit, I'm... Concerned. Curious and grateful, but concerned nonetheless." She says, leaving the bowls of ice ignored to walk closer.

"A young unicorn stallion with a griffon name, living just outside the Crystal Empire. He breaks into our home and steals our food, only to escape the guards with some sort of dark spell. If Glitter hadn't run off and followed you, I'm not certain we would have-" She pauses, as if to pick the correct wording. "-taken a risk like we did."

She looks diplomatic as she continues with a graceful tone, like velvet-lined stone. "I hope you can satisfactorily explain this, young pony. It... It could be _very_ important."

Her glittering ruby laser stare, coupled with my injuries, leaves me feeling cornered and trapped. I'm unable to come up with anything compelling to say, before she sighs lightly, and shakes her head, the bun atop it rustling lightly as a ruby clip sparkles buried inside it.

"Don't feel pressured if you don't have your story in order, deary. It's simply that there are still a lot of ponies in the Crystal Empire." She continues piteously.

"I didn't want to stalk after you into the snow, you know? You struck an intimidating figure when you lit up with that terrifying fire and green smoke like Sombra. But... Glitter Bomb made me understand that we had take that risk."

"Sombra's mine expands by the day, and he brings ponies under his thrall to work in it as he needs them. We couldn't choose that." She continually stares at Priss as she speaks, who by this point had calmed down and took a somber look at the floor.

I feel a sinking pit in my gut by the end of her short lament, a bitter thing that won't let me ignore her words.

She walks back to the table in the corner of the room and turns her attention to the bowls of ice chunks, prompting me to speak up.

"What are you doing?" I question as she dumps them onto the table and begins crushing them.

She just smiles. "Making crystals. Our food's not going to last forever, so growing more will be important. I'll plant these outside when they're ready." She finishes crushing them into small chunks, and walks out of the room.

I fail to comprehend what she means by "When they're ready", but the odd, blatantly magical glow around them is what leaves my incomprehension complete as they slowly turn into faceted frozen jewels.

* * *

Whittle Miss Priss walks into the sitting room, where her husband Glitter Bomb is shoveling snow into the umbral fireball trapped in the room's centerpiece, an icy carved pit surrounded by dug up dirt.

"So the colt woke up?" he says, and then continues. "Did he tell you what we need to know?"

As he kicks the last chunk of snow into the fire, it flares up hotter for reasons the family didn't understand, but whose properties they discovered while erecting shelter.

Whittle walks up to him and puts a hoof on his shoulder, rubbing it. Her hubby could be so tense sometimes.

"Not yet dear, he's understandably scared. I'm sure the lad will open up if we just give him some time."

Glitter Bomb frowns. "Whittle, you didn't see what I saw, then. After he lit up his horn, he started looking at those guards like a dragon looks at a pony. Hungry and unhappy. And his eyes started spewing that green smoke when he saw us following him. He could be as bad as Sombra, and you've got our daughter in there trying to make friends with him."

"We've just got to know what's going on in his head, whether he helped us or not."

Whittle just giggles, patting her husband on the back a few times before disengaging.

"Well if that's all you need to know, then we've got no problems." She says, lifting a hoof and shaking it as if to count on nonexistent fingers. "He's somepony who's scared, hungry, lost, alone, need I go on?"

Glitter looks a bit more bashful at that. "...Do you think he'll help sneak more ponies out?"

Whisper doesn't say anything as she hears her daughter giggling from the other room, and faint singing from Weiss, slowly rising up in volume.

♫ _"Love is the power_  
 _Love is the glory_  
 _Love is the beauty_  
 _And the joy of spring"_ ♫

"I believe he'll be receptive to the idea, dear." She smiles.

* * *

♫ _"A smile, a laugh, and you in my heart, As well as my baseball bat."_ ♫ Priss finishes.

I shake my head slightly to rid my thoughts of the impressed confusion that Priss applied to them when she followed up my rendition of Mother's Eight Melodies with Earthbound's, despite there being no way she could have known the lyrics.

At least there's no doubt in my mind now that this world does funky things to music.

"There, satisfied? Have you got your daily ration of entertainment at my expense?" I snark to the little annoying crotchspawn who demanded I "Do something interesting".

I hope she isn't expecting an encore, considering that I don't think I actually know any other child-friendly songs.

"Wow, way to make singing sound like a chore Mister Noir." Priss retorts, matches my tone.

"If it's really as tiresome as you make it out to be, then it clearly _wasn't_ entertaining enough for me." she snoots, thrusting her nose into the air with faux dismissiveness.

I level a leer at the child. "Oh, I meant to say 'Singing is my favorite thing in the world, above all else'. Is that sufficient for you to spare me a most unfitting punishment, Stan?"

Priss immediately has an expression one might expect to find on a shuddering volcano instead of a filly, but that rapidly turns into a smile that leaves me believing a trip out into the snow will leave me warmer than having to endure it much longer.

"Oh your punishment won't be _unfitting_." She says, trotting out of the room happily.

I can't help but feel I've made a mistake as I work my way out of bed and over to those ice crystals that Whittle had... done something to. Looking at them carefully, I'm unable to learn a thing. They're glowing, they look like gemstones instead of frozen water, and apparently, they're going to solve our food problem. It's no wonder to me now how the Crystal Empire was so prosperous, if they can just turn ice into food. Perhaps this is what all the crystal foods are made of? I guess if dragons can subsist on gems, ponies can subsist on ice.

Deciding that I've got nothing left to learn observing those, I exit the room, looking around at the one after it, some sort of livingroom, with a pit in the middle and a yellow pony with a rust-red mane, mustache and what looks like a Prince Rupert's Drop for a cutie mark. He tends to the bed of dark embers within. This must be the Glitter Bomb I was told about. I'm careful to not walk quietly, so he knows I'm approaching.

"You sure you want to be near that stuff?" I warn.

He just looks confused. "If it was going to do something, it would have done it by now, I figure."

"You can't feel the, uhh..." 'The smouldering resentment that the bed of coals and snow are practically singing out to me?' I don't finish.

"The heat? I'm a big pony, Weiss Noir. To be frank, we could do with a little more right now." He looks between me and the pit.

My head involuntarily tilts at that, but I ultimately submit to his request, and muster up an immense dislike for whatever's in that pit. My horn ignites, and I both intentionally, usefully, and successfully use my magic for the first time. As the black fire roars anew, I feel nothing but bitterness towards whatever had been left in it, before the feeling fades as my magic slips back into inactivity.

"What's with the scowl?" Glitter Bomb says, surprising me.

"I was scowling?" I respond, noticing my facial expression. I'll have to watch that.

He looks at me like I'm crazy, and I'm forced to come up with something to say to convince him I'm not.

"I really don't like the cold." I explain. This seems to satisfy him as he returns to staring at it instead of me.

I watch him visibly work up the nerve to say something, before he starts. "How do you feel about a repeat performance of last night?" He ventures vaguely.

I already know what he's getting at, but I need to know more. "Which part, exactly?"

Glitter Bomb responds without looking away from the firepit. "The part where Crystal Ponies walked out of the empire for the first time in years."

I feel that nasty pit in my gut again, and try to reason with him, words tumbling out rapidly. "I don't know enough. I might not be able to hold my spell as long, and the black fire on its own might not distract the guards if we tried torches. Even if I could hold it, there might be a radius of effect, so ponies might get caught out of it. It wouldn't be worth risking trying to evacuate the whole city in one night."

"Then we'll learn. If you're willing." He responds simply, before elaborating further. "Whittle has some friends from a club she used to go to. The Crystal Carving Cabaret. They'll trust us if we tell them there's a way out, and we can find out what you need to know while we're there."

The pit in my stomach from before turns into a lead weight, but I have nothing left to deny him with. Being scared isn't a good enough reason not to help these people.

* * *

"Alright deary, you've got your saddlebags, your trail food, water. Is there anything else?" Whittle questions, looking between me and Glitter.

"Wouldn't hurt if I had some rupture drops, but there's no fixing that right now." he complains, shouldering the heavier set of bags between the two of us.

"Ready boy?" he asks me, which I just nod in response to, my dry mouth denying me a more complex answer.

Priss prances up sleepily. "You're going to do great daddy! Mr. Noir, you better not mess this up, or you're really going to get it!" she shouts, stamping her hooves into the snow with a squeaky crunch.

"I'll do my best." I respond, which prompts her to give me a funny look. Shit, I should have said something snarky, shouldn't I?

Putting a hoof to my chest and my head in the air, I quickly continue "Maybe not, after all, my best would be overkill, with how amazing I am."

This seems to put her at ease, and returns her expression to that familiar state of amusement and visible hamster-wheel-turning as she devises a retort. She ultimately decides not to, and simply nods happily. A sad wave between all parties is our last contact with the pair as we walk into the setting sun, in the direction of the Crystal Empire.

* * *

"So, what does one normally do to pass time on a long walk like this?" I question, growing a bit restless at the slow plodding pace towards the distant empire.

Glitter Bomb just shrugs. "Small talk?" he says redundantly, judging from what we're doing right now.

I try to come up with something interesting to ask about. "So Whittle said something about planting ice. Is that what you guys do for food?"

He nods "It's really not that good though. Real crystal tastes better when it's prepared right."

I guess that explains rock soup. Maybe I could use my black fire for mining to get them some. If it can burn ice into nothing, surely it can do the same to rock.

"I'll keep that in mind." respond.

He gives me a sideways glance, taking that as impetus to continue.

"Of course, it also tastes better fresh. You can keep growing new crystals from old ones, but ones that first come out of the ground are best." he says conversationally.

The awkward air from before starts to fade, and I pose a theory to him. "You seem to know a lot about it." To which he huffs with a smile.

"I'm a Crystal Pony, from the Crystal Empire, with a Crystal Cutie Mark." He explains, prompting a small embarrassed flush from me.

"That makes sense." I respond, scraping up what little remains of my pride.

A few hours of aimless conversation later, and the sun gives way to night on the Crystal Empire, and Glitter Bomb stops me.

"This is close enough. Perform your magic, and warn me when you believe you've reached half of your limit."

'I really hope that magical stamina doesn't correlate to physical stamina.' I think to myself, summoning up a general, unfocused foul mood, which, to my surprise, doesn't grow unnaturally when I summon the pilot-dark that is as weak as I can make it. Maybe it only influences my emotions as needed?

I feel some relief at that thought, which turns into shock when my spell suddenly fails at the same time.

"What's wrong?" Glitter says uncomfortably at my misfire.

"Nothing." I say sharply, summoning up another bad attitude and focusing on keeping it.

Glitter looks uneasy, but shakes his head. "Tell me before you grow tired. We can't afford to get caught." He says, annoying me.

"You said that already, foal. Let's do this thing and get the hell out of here." I say, stalking forward.

He trots up and ahead of me, leading the way at a brisk pace, our first stop is at a large building covered in glittering statues of ponies, go figure. A sign at the front is covered in script I don't bother reading. He opens the door slowly, and walks inside, at which point I follow. As we go deeper into the building, my vision is impaired by my spell running, while his night vision seems to be more than sufficient to piece out where he's going. I take the time to look around as best as I can while he searches for whatever it is he's looking for. The foyer itself seems to be something like a club, or bar. Judging from the bottles at the back behind the bar, and the stage to the side, I have no reason to doubt this assumption. It's at this point that I spot it.

A small, insignificant pebble made of some black glassy material, carved to look like an eyeball, rolling around aimlessly. No, not aimlessly, I realize. On a patrol. I walk closer to Glitter Bomb and poke him. "Do you see that thing?" I question, turning his vision to look where I point.

"See what?" He questions back, confused. I feel an odd glimmer of a feeling coming off of him, one whose source becomes apparent when I look back to the eye and learn the source of it. Something about the eye seems to be making his focus slide off of it, like some kind of notice-me-not spell.

"Nevermind, just stay close to me for a second." I command, walking closer to it. My hate for Sombra sockets into place as a worthy replacement for my previous feelings, and my black flame flares up when I sense it. I'm immediately reminded of Lord of the Rings when I sense what emotions are radiating off of the sentry-eye, and, therefore, what must have gone into creating it.

"And into this ring, he poured his cruelty, his malice, and _his will to dominate all life_." I whisper, shaking slightly.

Glitter quickly walks up next to me with worry in his expression. "Weiss, what are you talking about?" he implores.

I snarl, and rear up, stomping the glass eye into pieces with both hooves, before taking a step back. "Do you see it now?!" I shout. "These are how he was doing it. How he was preempting the escape attempts!" I say, unable to control my volume.

Glitter grabs my head and pulls me to look at him instead of the scum on the floor beneath me. "Calm down." He commands, and I release a shuddering breath, noticing my black flame recede from the base of my horn back to the tip. The lights in the room all turn on at once, and we wheel about to see a large mare with a head-full of curlers staring us down with a blank expression.

"This place is closed, boys." She says, cracking her neck.

Glitter rapidly takes point and starts the process of convincing the hulking mare to not make pretzels of us. "Drop Kick, it's me, we need your help tracking down Whittle's friends."

The mare immediately begins beaming when she recognizes him, galloping over and pulling him into a hydraulic-press hug. "Glitterface! You old workhorse, how the hay are you!?" she squeals.

"I'm not sure he can respond like that, M'am." I say as evenly as I can, still boiling inside from what I had learned not moments ago.

"Well whaddya mean he... Oh." She drops him with a blush, patting the coughing stallion on the back as he tries to recover from a powdered spine.

"Drop Kick, we've found a way to get past the guards. Him." Glitter points at me, after regaining his senses.

"What, this scruffy little candelabra?" she says skeptically, getting closer than makes me feel comfortable as I take a step back, out of her hugging range.

"The guards can't see him when he's lit up like that. They can't see anypony following him either. We're going to get as many ponies as we can, supplies, and walk right out of here. We've got a camp they can hole up at." He explains, to her growing delight.

"Oh finally! I should stay here though, keep up morale. Ponies have been needing the Cabaret a lot more lately, yaknow?"

I shake my head. "Not an option." They both look confused at this, so I explain further. "Unless you can guarantee that Sombra can't read minds, you already know too much. None of this will make even a bit of difference if he figures out our plans or our methods."

She looks heartbroken at that, but after a long moment, relents. "Fine. But you better work quick getting everypony out. Ponies _will_ notice that I'm gone, and it's going to hurt when they don't know where. Sombra didn't come after me because he figured once the booze is gone, ponies will get mad enough to fight, even if they _can't_ win."

"We'll only be doing this as slowly as we absolutely have to." I say carefully.

She doesn't look happy with my answer. "Let's just go. I know where Vittle's place is, she's got the most foals, so she'll take priority."

* * *

A bright blue stallion with a ponytail for a hairdo and a gem-encrusted fountain pen for a cutie mark shakes and shivers. This pony's name is "Writes Well", and he doesn't have a good answer for his master.

"Two." A sonorous and smooth tone states conversationally.

"Two seeing-eyes in as many days, broken entirely. On those same days, my precious future-slaves begin to disappear. None of my guards say anypony suspicious had been there, and none of my wards informed me of somepony breaking in. I want you to explain it to me, Writes Well. I'm asking you very politely, and calmly, to tell me where my slaves are." He says, walking forward and sitting next to the pony, as though they were old friends.

"I-I'm so sorry, m-master, nopony will t-t-tell me anything, I swear it, they haven't responded to the bribes, the threats, nothing!" He says, trying to keep from breaking down entirely.

"Tsk tsk tsk... You know, I don't blame you, Writes Well. I know my gift to you wasn't good enough. Just letting you keep your mind, in return for your loyalty. Letting you stay out of the mines in return for your service." He explains.

"Why, if somepony offered that to me, I'd be offended! Outraged, even. You don't have to worry about me not understanding that. I really do get it."

Writes shivers even harder at this "Pl-" He tries, before being interrupted.

"Shhhhhh... It's alright. You don't have to worry about betraying your fellow pony anymore. I shouldn't have put that burden on you."

They stand, and walk around to look Writes in the eyes. "That's why I'm going to be giving you a new job. It's simpler, it's not in the mine, and best of all, you'll get to work alongside ponies who understand what it's like to be in your shoes. It'll be wonderful for you, I'm certain, to get back to working alongside your peers, instead of against them."

Writes is confused, confused enough to stop his shaking.

"All you need to do is be afraid for me."

"Like those ponies in the ritual room."

Writes at this point is inconsolable as he realizes what's about to happen, backing up with tears in his eyes. "Please King Sombra, P-p-"

Sombra, who had been following him as he backed up, simply smiles, and with a touch of his horn, Writes Well's entire world became terror.

Looking at the thrashing, screaming pony on the ground with apathy, Sombra simply lifts them up in his telekinetic aura, and slides him into a hole in the floor where, directly below his throne room, circles upon circles of black crystal and white chalk draw the fear from similarly flailing ponies held safely in the air by magic, and funnel it directly into himself.

"Good night, Writes Well." Sombra says, the hole sealing off with crystals wrought from his cruelty, malice, and will to dominate life.


	6. (Noir Report) A Refutation on the Common Usage of Dark Crystal [Sombra's Corrupt Crystal Creation]

Entry #2, Day 4

Where the Black Flame is infuriating, the black crystal is _intoxicating_. I find it difficult to cast at times, between my holding back as much as possible, and my own fear shattering the careful magical forces at play. I've learned that a strong enough "incorrect" emotion can interrupt me casting a spell, after enough instances of it happening in this exact situation. I don't want to use this spell anymore. Despite that, I must. Any advantage that I don't take may spell doom in the trying times that this book was written in. I refuse to believe that this magic can only be used by a tyrant, I have to refuse it. To that end, I shall name this spell Sombra's Corrupt Crystal Creation, to remind me of what I risk becoming during this study, and of who I must surpass to achieve mastery of it.

Domination. The hunger for obedience, for deference. The type of itch that can only be scratched when another pony grovels before you. This emotion forms the core of SC3, as I'll be calling the spell for short. When this emotion is paired with the mental urge, or command to manipulate crystal, the spell begins, starting by intensifying the emotion until it it's strength matches that of the spell, and then performing the task that one set out to do. Crystal begins to grow, change, and distort in a way professional crystal-shaping crystal ponies call "Disturbing". A firm focus is required to shape the crystal with any degree of accuracy, and unmaking it is far more difficult than even the act of creating it without some sort of seed crystal. Despite that, it is entirely possible to use this spell to destroy crystal, as well as create it without a seed to grow it from. Perhaps I'm wrong, and the seed crystal that the spell locked onto during those experiments was merely too microscopic for me to see. I have no way to test this at the present moment, so for all intents and purposes, I will consider the spell to be capable of generating it ex-nihilo.

Having no desire to spy, and no confidence in it's ability to be concealed from dark magic users, my first experiments in creating dark crystal were of it's physical properties. Having summoned up various primitives, I tested them destructively and in other, more practical ways. One unfortunate thing to consider, nearly every adult crystal pony who participated in testing was able to break the crystals that I created, while I myself was unable to damage the larger ones, beyond scuffing them, or breaking off fragments. Ordinary crystal tools and weapons were able to break through any Dark Crystal counterparts with trivial ease, making it unsuitable for combat against superior crystals, made by superior crystal creators. In all physical respects, SC3 pales in comparison to old fashioned Crystal Pony Ingenuity. Something that fills my heart with pride and relief, and informs me for the seventh time that incorrect emotions can shatter weak, lesser spells.

My next experiments lay in it's magical properties. As the only unicorn on hand, I pray those who read this forgive my small sample size. Even more unfortunately, there may be a bias involved. My attempts to burn it with Black Flame succeeded with ease, the fire obliterating the blackened crystal I summoned, but in the very same experiment, if I created a crystal and attempted to contain a black flame using it, the flame was helpless to resist as I encased it and snuffed it out. Ultimately, these experiments lead me to believe one simple fact. I am not a suitable test subject to compare my own magic against, as I pollute my own results with the intentions of my magic. Something which I will try to remedy in the future via either proxy or assistant. Though I must wonder if there do exist others who could match me in dark magic and yet retain that in their heart by which I may call them "friend". Perhaps I'll have to produce such individuals one day, if I myself prove capable of retaining that quality at my mastery's epoch.

My final experiment lay in it's true essence, the undiluted desire for control. I absolutely refuse to attempt even the most minor perversions of the mind using this spell on another pony, but there exist targets that do not fall under that stipulation. Myself, and that which does not live. Attempts to use the crystal to influence my own mind with simple commands or hypnosis fail. My desire for control fundamentally cannot be used to take that control away from me, something I should have expected. Perhaps, then, It might be suitable for retaining my self-control, something I am unable to test at the present moment. As for the second among my victims, a term used in my homeland, a "Golem", is a creature born from rock and slaved to it's creator. Though my attempts at present fail, I feel it is a failure of lacks, rather than truths. I can tell from the crystal's primordial equivalent of confusion that it fails to control inanimate objects not through a lack of ability, but a lack of capabilities. Rocks do not have muscles, nor do they have joints or eyes. If I give these things to my golem, will it rise and serve me? If I give to it, will it obey in turn?

When compared with it's peers, dark crystal is clearly the runt of the litter, however, it's still a hard, glassy substance that can be produced from nothing at a point of my choosing. Any from my homeland would immediately see what I see, an incredibly potent tool with unimaginable destructive capacity. As they would most any extant or nonexistent object, I imagine. The first, most obvious question is "What type of crystal is it?", to which, dear aspiring magi, I have an answer here at the end of my entry. "It depends." An unfortunate, but true fact of this spell is that, if you do not know what you are growing the crystal from, it's properties default to those of glass, and if you do know the substance, then the crystal that results is a variant of it. I learned of a new substance by this method, when a dark ice crystal I created had come to melt into an equally dark water. In future reference, this substance's name shall be Black Water, my most intelligent and complex name yet, one worthy of poetic praise from all who hear of it. If I spray it at things, would that make it Black Water Mist?


	7. (Present Chapter 2): The Return of Light: Part 2

_"Dear Celestia, she whose burning winds punish the land and sear the world, and Dearest Luna, whose frigid gale pierces our homes,_

_it is my greatest pleasure to inform you both that from my slumber I have awoken once more to blight your world with my presence, and that from my imprisonment I am now freed to do so._

_The time has come once again for the forces of Good and Evil to engage in their ancient battle. Your Champions beckon for me._

_And no pony can say who shall emerge victorious..._

_Your dear friend and eternal adversary, Weiss Noir."_

Weiss bites his tongue and releases a puff of purple dragonfire with a snap of his claws, sending the black scroll's smoke flying into the distance.

"So who were you writing, anyway?" Gilda asks, walking alongside him.

Weiss chuckles. "The welcoming party."

"Remember what I said about secret sensei bullcrap? The same thing applies to weird answers that don't answer my bucking questions." Gilda says with a scowl.

Weiss, rapidly rephrasing his former statement, elaborates. "I was taunting the princesses about how I'm going to go to Ponyville, so they'll send over the fun stuff to deal with me, get off my back Gilda, jeeze."

Gilda almost laughs before holding herself back, thinking that it probably isn't a good idea to be laughing at Princess Celestia's misfortune.

The pair, at this point, begin to approach the train tracks, which Weiss tests with a hoof.

"So are you just going to wait for the train or something? Why did we go this way?" Gilda complains sourly for the detour.

Weiss shrugs "You wanted me to come, some of us can't break the sound barrier without a little help." He says, hopping carefully onto the tracks and summoning up magical energies.

"A technique from the Thievious Racoonus adapted for unicorn usage should be enough to let me keep pace with our lovely flying prodigy." He says, hopping up and down on the tracks until he's satisfied with whatever goal he has surrounding his hooves in a maroon glow.

"Give me a push?" He wiggles with a smirk.

Gilda's smirk wipes the smirk off his face, however, as she lazily takes flight, loops around and, at an appreciable fraction of the speed of sound, shoves him right-

* * *

_"To my faithful student, Twilight Sparkle,_

_I fear you may be in danger, I implore you to return to where you once found the Elements of Harmony as soon as is reasonable for you. Bring with you your most trusted friend among the ones you have made thus far. My request is that you retrieve the Weapons of Light that I and my sister once wielded in ages past. I have the utmost faith in you, my student, and believe you will surpass my expectations once again._

_Yours truly, Princess Celestia."_

Spike finishes reading, as Twilight's mane fights to get free of her head before she catches fire from stress. It fails this escape attempt, however, instead merely turning itself into a frayed rats nest in her slowly increasing neurosis.

"Spike, do you know what this means?!" Twilight shouts, pacing around the room rapidly, stuffing a saddlebag full of nearly everything in the room that isn't nailed down or a book.

"Uhh, that you should wait until a reasonable time to go running off?" Spike says.

"No, that I need to go get the rest of the girls immediately!" She shouts, twitching.

As she begins to levitate Spike over to the saddlebag, he speaks up rapidly. "I don't know if I should be in this one Twilight!" he says to avoid the fate of being packed with the peanut butter sandwiches.

The instant he says that, Twilight stands up ramrod straight and drops him. "You're right! Celestia said to ONLY bring my most TRUSTED friend!"

"Uhh, I don't think she said you couldn't bring the rest of them..?" Spike responds, scratching his head while standing back up.

Twilight stands tall and retorts obviously. "It's _subtext_ Spike, she obviously expects a great deal from me, to choose my most _trusted_ friend to help obtain the Weapons of Light! The most trustworthy Element of Honesty, Applejack!"

As Twilight gallops out of the door at a dead sprint, Spike is left behind, confused and slightly annoyed that he'll have to put everything back up that Twilight shoved in her saddlebags and left behind.

Thankfully, her magical aura drags the over-fattened saddlebags out after her at extreme speed, sparing him the effort.

* * *

Meanwhile and elsewhere, Rainbow Dash enjoys a well-earned nap high in the clouds, although technically, one might have argued that she's just sleeping as her current choice of napping spot is the bed inside her cloud home. Ignoring for now whatever ontological nature her rest has, the question quickly becomes moot as her nap is ended by a pounding on her door.

"I'm up, I'm up!" she shouts, rolling over onto the ground and shaking herself into full awareness. 'Who the heck is knocking at this hour?' Dash internally complains, walking over and opening it.

"Yeah, what's up... Gil..." She pulls her jaw back up with a small click, and schools her expression into something more neutral. "...da?"

Gilda beams at Dash like the cat that caught the canary "Last time I was here, I didn't exactly make a good impression." she says, the content of her words at odds with her behavior as she practically hops from side to side with excitement.

Dash, confused and with a strange, bad feeling, responds. "Yeah, you really didn't, Gilda. You made a lot of ponies really upset!" she raises her voice a bit, wondering if this is the part where Gilda apologizes.

The griffon in question dashes those hopes entirely as she nods rapidly. "Yup, my flying sucked and I didn't keep my cool, but that's all changed, I went through some brutal training last week, and I'm here to remind you that Gilda's the coolest griffon you know. Just you wait." She says, already imagining Dash's apologetic and awed tone when she sees what Gilda can do now.

"Gilda, I'm really not sure some flying tricks are going to be enough to make up for what you did!" She says exasperatedly, confused at why Gilda doesn't seem to see that.

Gilda shakes her head. "Come on, give me a shot, you have no clue how tough that training was, you'll see what I mean when you see what I can do."

The way she acts at this leaves Dash surprisingly concerned. 'What's got her so happy, did she just forget what happened before?'

'She's acting super weird.' Dash thinks to herself.

To satisfy Gilda's stated goal, Dash decides to accept her offer. "Look... Alright Gilda, I'll watch your tricks, but you really need to apologize afterwards, Ok?" she pleads.

"Yeah yeah, it's on my to-do list." The Griffon waves her off with a claw. "So, where's some clouds that need clearing weatherchamp, I want to start this flight show off _strong_!" Gilda questions, turning around and scanning the skies.

'Has she been sleeping?' Dash involuntarily questions internally before answering. "Uhh, there's a cloud front over by Sweet Apple Acres that I'm supposed to get rid of by tomorrow, I guess we can use that?" Dash ventures.

Gilda hops off the cloud home's porch and into the air below. "Lead the way, and get your counting feathers ready, because this one's going to be fast." she cheers.

After Dash takes her over there, she lands at the edge of the farm where the clouds await. A few lazily drifting puffs of watery cotton.

"So what's the trick?" Dash questions nervously, landing next to Gilda, who just smirks.

"Just get to counting Dash, you won't believe it otherwise." And with that bold statement, Gilda gets ready, set, and then goes, blasting through the clouds like a rocket, seeming to almost bounce off of them one to another like a pinball as she makes hairpin turns on the drop of a dime.

In what feels like an instant later, Gilda lands with a skidding crash and announces her own count beneath a clear sky. "Ten seconds flat. And yours?"

Dash is so distracted by Gilda's unnaturally green eyes that she stutters. "U-uh, took you nine seconds... Actually."

The only thing as strange as Gilda's eyes and her incredible jump up in speed is her expression, almost like her being wrong about her counting made her more upset than the real time being shorter pleased her. Her briefly angry expression turns much happier after a quick moment, though. "Guess my counting isn't as good as my flying!" she shrugs.

"Heh. Yeah." Dash says. "So about that apology?"

"Well I'm not done yet, Dashie, You think I'm some kind of one-trick-griffon?" She pulls out a bottle of water and rapidly chugs it down.

"What's that you've got there, Gilda?" Dash questions curiously.

"Just some sporty stuff my trainer has me drinking." Gilda shrugs. "Now come on, Let's have us a proper race, right here, right now!" She shouts cheerily, already assuming a liftoff pose.

Dash mimics her uncomfortably. "Ok, but after this, we really need to talk, Gilda."

Gilda laughs, but also looks vaguely annoyed. "Yeah yeah, just let me finish my routine and we can talk till the cows come home. As long as you don't mind talking about how badly I whipped you in this race!"

The cows waving in the distance at Gilda's comment fail to comfort Dash, as she just can't quash the weird feeling about Gilda's behavior.

* * *

"Ok, disguise in place, alibi prepared, let's do this thing." Weiss says, covering up his extra limbs with a set of saddlebags, and his energetic flaming hair with sunglasses and a tourist sun-hat.

The exact moment he enters Ponyville's borders, he receives an entirely expected but still shocking shock as someone pops up behind him with a cheerful sappy shout.

"Hi! My name is Pinkie Pie and my tummy got rumbly and my mane got extra frizzy and my left hoof shook out a really big number in binary, so that's how I know there's a new pony in town and they're really grumpy and tired and they woke up on the wrong side of the bed and they don't want ponies to know that they're just sleepy and need a good friend by acting like they're secretly a big mean grumpy grump pants and they haven't had-"

'So this is what it feels like.' Weiss thinks to himself, waiting for her to peter out.

" _Gaaaaasp_!" she inhales, before continuing.

"Sarsaparilla in a really really really really really really really really really-"

When the pink maned mare belts out enough "Really"'s to prompt her to gasp for another breath again, Weiss shoves a hoof in her mouth.

"I think you've delivered the spirit of your message, dear." Weiss says, prompting her to mumble through the hoof in her mouth until he retracts it with a small amount of disgust.

"If you say so, anyway, like I said, my name's Pinkie Pie, what's your name, huh? Huh? Huh?" she says no less rapidly.

"Well you see, I'd like it a whole lot if you called me Black Snooty while I'm in town. There's some ponies who don't much care for me, and they'll get really spooky when they know I'm here." Weiss says.

"Well that's _weird_ , why the hay would you want me to call you _that_ , your snooty isn't even black!" She says, face scrunching up in confusion.

Weiss responds obviously "Because Queen Meany doesn't really fit me right now."

"That makes sense!" she shouts, preparing to evaporate into the wind to prepare a surprise party, before being grabbed by Weiss one last time.

"Wait, Pinkie, I'm not actually new to Ponyville, I've been here before. No need to stress yourself making a party right this minute." He says, prompting Pinkie to shake her head rapidly.

"No, nonono no. That was before Ponyville was founded, so it doesn't count, a-doy! Even if it did, that just means I'm super duper late with your welcome-to-ponyville party, like, _Ultra_ super duper late!"

Weiss calculates the optimal route to delaying Pinkie while carefully ignoring how she knew about that. "Alright, alright. But you have to wait until I get a better disguise, or the party will be super frowny, and I'll be sad and embarrassed and the spooky ponies might notice me and that will make me... Ultra super frowny...?" He ventures, prompting Pinkie to gasp as if he were admitting to having a terminal illness.

"Well don't worry your snow-white behind Snoots, your new aunt Pinkie will be more than happy to help you with your super secret disguise, but even more importantly than that-!" She thrusts a hoof in the air dramatically.

"Your new aunt Pinkie will be absolutely super omega duper wooper overjoyed to get you your much-needed sarsaparilla!" she finishes, grabbing him and dragging him along next to her.

"I'm a millennia older than you." Weiss mumbles to himself, too allured by the promise of the first taste of sodie-pop since arriving in Equestria to muster up more than passive resistance and quiet mutterances as she drags him along.

'Looks like distracting Pinkie is going to be easier than I thought.' He considers as he's led into Ponyville proper, where he spots Twilight only barely restraining herself from running into the Everfree at a dead sprint as she instead power-walks with a disgruntled Applejack in tow.

'And there goes the one pony in town who might recognize and have an easy cure for rage poison.'

* * *

Dash lands at the end of Sweet Apple Acres, panting slightly. Gilda, equally tired, gives Dash a lazy smile, before reaching for her bottle of water. When she discovers it's empty, she dashes it at the ground and stomps it into pieces with displeasure.

"Whoa Gilda, what the heck?" Dash wheezes.

"Ugh, I'm out of water!" Gilda says, grinding the wooden chunks of bottle into the ground for good measure.

"I don't want to mix up more of that junk, it'll take for-flocking ever." She growls, before pulling out a new bottle, filled with some sort of red potion that sets Rainbow Dash's hair standing on end.

'Just a sip is enough, he said.' Gilda thinks, before uncorking it and taking a short swig of the sour potion.

"Ugh, this stuff sucks." Gilda complains.

"Gilda, is that the stuff your trainer has been making you drink?" Dash questions, glancing sideways at the thrashing brew.

"Yeah? Why, you want some?" Gilda queries.

The Pegasus rolls words over in her mouth. "I... I don't think you should drink any more of that stuff Gilda. Let's just do some more flying, Ok? You kinda did my work today, so I've got some more free time." She says.

For a brief moment, Gilda's posture turns tense at Dash's words, until she visibly forces herself to relax.

"Yeah, I guess it is an unfair advantage." Gilda forces out.

"Gramps said I didn't need it anymore anyway now that my training's done. It's all yours. Just don't overdo it if you're going to try some." She says through clenched teeth. With that said, Gilda tosses the bottle carelessly onto the grass next to her.

As Gilda stalks off to the clearing they designated as their liftoff point, Dash picks up the bottle and carefully pours it out.

Though she'd never admit it, seeing Gilda's body flash purple for a moment was the most frightening thing she had seen in over a week.

"Hey Dash, I want to show you a brand new trick. You've _never_ seen this one before, I guarantee it!" Gilda shouts back, looking over to one of the apple trees and gliding over to it.

* * *

"Life is pain!" Weiss complains from the floor of Sugarcube Corner, rubbing his aching stomach.

"Nope, just your tummy. You drank a _lot_ of soda. I don't know why you got into the unsweetened soda-water. That stuff's not exactly tasty on its own." Pinkie rambles, polishing a countertop while Weiss groans and moans.

"Because soda is life." Weiss answers, slowly raising himself back to his feet with magic.

"I was lost but now I am found." He says reverently, throwing another few bits onto the counter for more soda, but Pinkie just shakes her head.

"I'm cutting you off Snoots, you've had enough for one day." She says, trying to push his bits back.

"Hey, I'm not over the legal limit yet barkeep. I'm still good to drive." Weiss complains with a thump of his hoof.

"I hope you're joking Snoots, that would be awful if there was a legal limit on soda! Driving a cart or no, you drink any more fizzy drinks and you're going to pop like... Pop!" She giggles.

Groaning from a combination of stomachache and being denied his divine nectar, he takes his bits back in a disgruntled manner and exits the shop.

"I'm going to go check on something I had cooking. I'll let you know when I need ya'." Weiss says as he scans the town until he senses what he's looking for.

"See ya then Snoots!" Pinkie waves him off.

As he walks out of sight, his sunhat, sunglasses, and saddlebag evaporate into smoke.

'Distraction complete. Now for phase three of my master plan.' he chuckles to himself, walking towards Sweet Apple Acres.

* * *

"So what'r these things supposed to look like, anyhow?" Applejack questions as they enter the chamber that once held the Elements of Harmony, the empty pedestals coated with long-untouched dust.

"Well, according to Ancient Armories of Antiquity, the Weapons of Light are a pair of tools created a long time ago by some sort of Sage, Wise Knower, using materials gathered near a sacred tree in the Everfree forest itself. There's two of them, a whip and a sword, and they can only be wielded by ponies with a good heart, because of how they repel evil." Twilight exposits, trotting up to the nearest pedestal.

"I don't know where they actually are though." She continues helpfully.

Applejack trots up to the same pedestal, and, taking a deep breath, blows the dust off of it.

"Well, we best get to lookin' then, iffin some "Bad thing that's absolutely going to happen and is worse than Nightmare Moon" is as true as you said it was."

Twilight blushes slightly, remembering how she chose to word the matter when requesting Applejack's assistance. She is then shocked when after Applejack's puff of air, the six pedestals that once held the elements begin to descend into the floor, a stony grinding marking the transition of the six pillars into slightly hazardous steps into some sort of lower room. The pair look between one another with unspoken dialogue going between them, and they hop their way down into the unknown depths below. As they hop down the final pillar, they spot it, a pair of pedestals lit by crystals high above. The floor and walls around the pedestals are coated from wall to wall in sun and moon motifs, a trapezoidal white pedestal holds a gleaming white sword with a bold purple handle, while a bright red orb sits snugly in a rounded obsidian dias.

"That's them, the Weapons of Light!" Twilight says, galloping over to them before a strange wind repels her, sending her tumbling head over flank back to Applejack, who stood further back and was merely scooted on her hooves a few feet away.

"Wh-" Twilight begins, stumbling to her feet.

"But that doesn't make any sense, the weapons are only supposed to repel ponies with evil hearts trying to get them! We're not bad ponies..!?" Twilight says, working herself into a panic.

"We _have_ to get those weapons Applejack, Equestria might depend on it!" Twilight moans piteously, before a hoof on her shoulder startles her out of it.

"We're gonna get em, Twi, and we'll do it together." Applejack says with confidence.

"Do you trust me?" She questions redundantly, which Twilight immediately nods in responds to.

With no more words needed, the pair ground their hooves, grit their teeth, and slowly push against the magical wind testing their resolve, inching closer and closer to the sacred relics.

* * *

"Ok, so, my trainer had me pulling up trees with my wings, but not by like, grabbing them, but actually flying them up out of the ground, it's so cool that it'll put all this to rest once and for all!" Gilda says, approaching the apple tree to attempt uprooting it, but Dash gets between her and the tree with a burst of speed, flapping between the two.

"Don't, Gilda, these are Applejack's trees, and I really don't think she'd like you tearing one of em up."

Gilda's face twists with anger. "I'll put. It back. After." She hisses.

Dash shakes her head. "Let's just go over to the woods, Ok? It's just a few minutes flight."

Gilda at this point is apoplectic, shuddering with pure rage. "I don't _want_ to wait a few minutes. Just let me do my trick on this _one_ stupid tree."

"Gilda, don't touch Applejack's trees, you won't impress me breaking other ponies' stuff." Rainbow Dash says, trying to flap a little closer to Gilda.

" _Impress you?!_ It's not going to _impress you?!_ Then what _is?!_ Huh?! What's going to impress you, what!? wh-" Gilda drops Dash, who she had been holding by the neck and squeezing with one talon while Dash scrabbled for air.

"W-what-" Gilda backs up, suddenly overwhelmed with shame and fear of herself.

"P-" She shakes. "O-ok Dash, please don't be angry, I... I don't k-know why I did that, I just." She backs up further, rump bumping against a tree, she looks back, only to see her wings awash with purple light.

Dash, who had been afraid for herself moments before, is now very afraid for Gilda, whose confused and fearful expression are at odds with her earlier behavior.

"I- Don't be mad, I didn't mean it, Celestia-" Gilda cringes with pain, before leaning over and voiding her stomach onto the ground, a pink froth of potion and water spilling onto the grass.

"O-oh Celestia _help me_ Dash." she whimpers, before vomiting again.

Dash rushes over as fast as she's able, holding up Gilda with a foreleg and gripping her head gently to keep her feathers out of the way.

"Don't worry Gilda, I'm going to get you to help, Twilight's probably got some idea how to fix this, Ok? Just hold on."

Gilda periodically retches as the pair make their way to Ponyville, and by extension, the Golden Oaks Library. By the time they pass Ponyville's border, however, Gilda's illness has mostly passed.

"I think I can walk now D-Dash." she whispers, desperately wanting to not be close enough to Dash to do what she had just done if she lost control again.

Rainbow Dash, meanwhile, simply shakes her head and continues to support the griffon.

As the duo walk down main street towards help, they finally encounter Weiss, who smiles at the pair.

"Oh good to see you two, just the pony and griffon I've been looking for." He says conversationally.

"Who the hay is this guy Gilda?" Dash says as she is gently pushed away from Gilda.

The griffon looks angry, but tired as she shouts "W-why the flock was I just puking my guts out gramps?! I almost..."

"I almost-" she tries again, but is interrupted.

"You almost did something you would regret, and then you regretted it anyway. The influx of fear and regret caused your body to purge the emotionally charged potion." Weiss explains simply.

"Considering that, I'd say our lessons aren't done. But your little trip here certainly is. Assaulting an Element of Harmony isn't going to win you any friends, dear, and even if it would, you know too much. You'll just tap that dark power again as soon as you're angry enough, potion or not, now that you know how it's done. You're unstable." he continues with a cold sneer.

Gilda shouts back. "I don't want anything to do with you, freak!" But as soon as her anger reaches a fever pitch, she breaks out in a cold sweat and backs up at the familiar sensation of power shooting through her.

"We had a deal, Gilda. I go free, you learn my lessons and I help you regain Dash's friendship. You're coming with me."

Dash, who had been listening to this exchange, has some anger as well, and decides to make up for Gilda's inability to express her own. "So you're the pony who gave Gilda that freaky juice? I'm not going to let you do anything to her." She says with cold steel in her voice, stepping in front of the griffon.

It's around this point that the surrounding ponies look on in caution and fear at the altercation brewing in the middle of town.

It's also around this point that Twilight and Applejack run up to the situation, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Rarity in tow.

Weiss pays no mind to the newcomers, and steps towards the increasingly afraid griffon. "Our debts aren't squared, Gilda. I refuse to let that stand."

"Leave that poor griffon alone, you brute!" Rarity says, having heard enough of the conversation to recognize the aggressor as she trots up next to Rainbow Dash.

"You ain't takin' nopony nowhere." Applejack continues, standing next to Gilda.

"Hi Snoots!" Pinkie says, bouncing over with the rest, while Fluttershy takes up the rear and Twilight takes point against him, forming almost a huddle around Gilda.

Weiss snarls. "Don't call me 'Snoots', you foal." He says hastily, trying to salvage his pseudonym before Pinkie unintentionally ruins it.

"It seems my true name has been wiped away from this saccharine era."

Twilight at this point pipes up with a frown. "Oh I know exactly who you are." She says, taking a step forward.

With a dramatic point, she exclaims for the world to hear. "You're the Pluck-Night Pony, _Know-Our Vice!_ "

Weiss freezes, literally hearing the mangling of his name's spelling and meaning.

"No... I'm actually not." He deadpans, confusing Twilight.

"But that's what it said in Predictions and Prophesies, A moon minus days after the blackest night of the brightest day, events would conspire to send hate with hate, and Know-Our Vice would arise to inflame all Equestria!"

Weiss facehoofs "Yes, Bookhorn Maroon, but my name isn't Know-Our Vice, It's Weiss Noir!"

Twilight's head involuntarily tilts while the rest of the gang looks confused at this non-sequitur.

"Vice Know-Our?" She repeats, prompting Weiss to growl.

"No! Weiss Noir, not Vice Know-Our!"

Twilight at this point responds in monotone. "You just said the exact same thing twice." To which Pinkie chides.

"Twilight, don't be rude, a pony's name is something you should respect, even if they _are_ acting like a big meany-pants right now. He just spells it differently."

Twilight's mane frays slightly "But they sound exactly the same!"

"Yeah, but the readers know you're messing it up!" Pinkie says sagely.

Weiss decides to distinctly ignore all of this, and go back to his original line of conversation. "Look, Rainbow Dash, you can't possibly tell me you're going to defend her." He says smoothly.

"She didn't treat Pinkie invading your hangout time the way she should have." He explains.

"She ruined what should have been a party to cheer her up and make her feel better, with actions that were completely unwarranted." He steps forward as Rainbow Dash cringes as his words.

"She embarrassed you in front of the entire town." He takes another step forward.

"She didn't even try to make things right when your one day together ended on such a sour note." He continues, looking at her smugly as her friends get more and more angry.

"How could you possibly forgive her after she did something that awful, that _disloyal_?" Weiss finally finishes, standing nose to nose with Dash.

"Because I did the same thing to her!" Dash shouts back with pure suffering in her tone, forcing Weiss back with her words.

"I should have told Pinkie off when I knew Gilda just wanted to hang out with me for the day and Pinkie kept butting in, I shouldn't have done all those stupid pranks when I knew she was getting upset."

"I should have tried to talk _to_ her, instead of just talking _at_ her. Even if I had to chase her all the way to Griffonstone to do it." Dash hangs her head, before turning to face Gilda.

"I didn't realize how rude I was. Can you forgive me for being such a jerk, Gilda?" Dash pleads, seeing Gilda's tear-stained and shocked face.

Mere moment later, the pair are hugging the stuffing out of one another, laughing and crying in equal, emotionally releasing measure. Even the rest of the girls at this point are smiling at the heartwarming reconciliation.

Weiss puts a scowl on his face and points it at them after they conclude their moment. "Forgiveness or no, you can't stop me from squaring our debts. I'm not leaving without Gilda."

It's at this point that they all turn and glare at Weiss, who simply smirks. With a flourish of his head and an ignited horn, he unleashes wave after wave of raw killing-intent, attempting to cow the group into submission with his magically enhanced predatory presence. The air flickers with powerful dark magic.

The two unaffected ponies among them stand tall however, and at their defiance, he quickly acts shocked and ends his spell with some theatrical sparking. "What? This isn't possible, The ponies that can ignore killing intent that strong can be counted on one hoof!"

Applejack steps forward with a smirk, prompting Weiss to back up. "We can. We can beat yer' fancy magic, and we can _make_ you get the hay out of Ponyville."

Twilight steps forward as well. "And Gilda won't be going _anywhere_ she doesn't want to."

Weiss chortles. "Oh, you're going to _make_ me leave? With what, the Elements? Didn't the Princess tell you that those alone aren't enough to keep me down?"

Twilight smiles, and pulls out a blade in her telekinesis, while Applejack holds a red whip in her teeth. "Actually, we were going to make you leave with these. The Weapons of Light!"

"The Blade of Evil's Bane, the Master Sword!" she hefts the blade aloft, light shining off its mirrored surface.

"And the Whip of Alchemy, the Vampire Killer!" she continues, prompting Applejack to crack the crimson, chain-woven whip in a puff of fire.

Weiss carefully draws his face into a mask of pure rage. "You _dare?!_ " he shouts.

He then shouts again when the group of ponies don't answer, his mane erupting like a volcano in black fire. "You dare?!"

Pinkie pipes up "Yeah, we dare!"

Weiss's expression instantly turns neutral. "Understandable, have a nice day." He turns and begins to trot off, making nearly everypony, including the ones who had been watching from their houses, faceplant.

Gilda, who had been watching this with an arm still around Dash, can't help but comment. "What the flock?"

She's startled however, when her comment prompts Weiss to turn around.

"By the way, Gilda." He says, conversationally.

"I still haven't squared my debts with you. Here, in return for the pain and grief I still owe you for causing, and as payment for releasing me. Consider this my thanks. And my apology." He tosses her a sack of bits, which she catches angrily.

By the time she looks back from the flying bits to Weiss, he's already dissipated.

"That stupid idiot gave me a couple of lousy bits for all that? Ugh! This won't even pay for a night at the inn!" she huffs, before Twilight's eyes widen at the sight of the flat, off-colored coins.

"Gilda, let me see those bits!" she says, making the curious griffon open her talons to reveal the aged golden coins, a picture of a diamond on one side, and what looks like an eagle on the other.

"Oh my stars!" Twilight shouts, eyes widening even further.

"Those aren't bits, Gilda, those are gepee, they must be at least a thousand years old!"

"So what, they're old?" Gilda questions uncomprehending.

"Not just old, but valuable! You could sell those for... I don't even know how much, you're rich!"

Gilda looks surprised at that, but ignores Twilight's impromptu history lesson on ancient forms of pony currency to instead focus on Dash, who looks like she has something to say.

"Hey Gilda. I shouldn't have just let you go like that when you yelled at everypony." She says with some shame.

"I should have chased you down and kicked your flank!" Dash finishes, laughing as Gilda smiles too, albeit a smile as shyly held as the one she had back during her first day of Junior Speedsters.

"That's what friends are for, right?" Dash goes on to say, making Twilight frown.

"I think all our friendships can absolutely be had and improved upon without the looming threat of violence, right?" The purple unicorn questions, making Gilda visibly ponder that for a moment.

Gilda's pondering ends when she wrestles Dash and then gives her a noogie. "Nah!"

* * *

_"Dearest Princess Twilight,_

_Today I learned that sometimes, it can be hard to accept when somepony you like acts in a way that's not so nice. Though it's impossible to control how your friends act, it's possible to control your own behavior. Just continue to be a loyal friend, even when it's hard, and in the end, you'll have the best chance possible of helping a true friend's better nature come to light._

_Your faithful student,_  
W e i s s N o i r."

Weiss writes mockingly, before sending it off in a puff of dragonfire.

As he trots a short distance into the Everfree, he can't help but laugh and laugh at just how perfectly his plans had gone, and just how delicious their reactions had been.


	8. (Weiss Report) Bribes [Master Sword and Vampire Killer]

Entry Whatever, Day Whatever

I'm so pissed. The royal sisters just blasted their way into my throne room for the third time. Turns out, after they defeated Discord, they did some snooping around, and accused me of colluding with the bastard. You try to make one measly set of Chaos Emeralds by legally designating a room for ponies to raise a cacophony in whenever they feel like it, and they think you're trying to beef up the one person in Equestria whose attention I absolutely do not want. It took some quick talking, and I basically had to promise them backup Elements of Harmony, but they left without just beating me into a pulp.

After the second time, I started literally leaving the skylight of my throne room open for them twenty-four-seven, and they decided to go through a wall instead when they saw that. I'm so god damn angry. I'll get over it though. I might be pissed at them for a lot of reasons, but it's a petty anger, and the best cure for that is indulging in the delights of using magic to make things ones consigned to fiction. Not that I even know how to make relics as good as The Elements, anyway. Good thing I have dudes for that. Good work dudes.

What those posh bitches don't know is that I know where the tree is too, bet they weren't expecting that. My quest to make them some spare world-saving goodies will start there.

* * *

Still too annoyed to mark the entries proper, use your imagination, codebreaking dorks.

My first problem emerged when I entered the forest. That place has a feeling of safety that I bet really doesn't make ponies happy when there's actual predators lurking around. Long story short, I found the tree. My second problem emerged when the tree basically asked me with like, sappy magic feeling waves if I wanted it to just MAKE more elements with some of it's remaining energy, that tree is too generous for it's own good. I managed to convince it not to because of the plunder vine seeds, and instead hunkered down, broke out the portable lab, and got to work enlightening myself.

That didn't fucking work, but it did give the tree enough time to lowkey read my mind, and it helped me figure out something kinda huge. The Everfree Forest is the harmony capital of the world. Everything works on it's own because ponies are supposed to work alongside it instead of having to lead nature along by the nose just to make it function. It's gotten pretty shaggy though without anyone giving it that little touch of guidance, since there aren't any ponies willing to pony the fuck up and try. I think that kinda bums the tree out, but I don't exactly speak arbor. I wonder why the princesses never tried to tame the forest, I mean, they're living there, do they just think it's cursed?

It's around day five that me and the tree painstakingly come to an agreement after some embarrassing attempts at higher-order communication. It has figured out that I fucking love quid-pro-quo, and it's got a self-preservation instinct like the rest of us mortals, even if it ignores it a bit too often when it's trying to be nice. I didn't figure out that it was onto my plans, though, until a patch of ground near the roots started glowing, and the tree basically ordered me to dig up that spot.

I was amazed when I found a huge chunk of ore that practically made my teeth itch. The glittering titanium ore had spent so long in the Everfree that it had become charged with the power of Harmony. Not as good as the tree's big-boy powers, but holy shit it's a start. I had been kinda getting worried I wasn't going to get anywhere with this, and those princesses seriously freak me out. When's Celestia going to get all nice and pacifistic like in the show? I swear she wants to go all Bane on me every time we meet.

* * *

Oh yeah, I bet you _wish_ this entry was marked correctly

With what I'll call Master Ore in hand, I made my first trip back home to drop it off with the R&D Dudes. I gave em a simpleish goal. Make me a sword blade out of the stuff that's as magically hollow as an empty bottle, because I'm planning on packing this fucker with features. The Master Sword has a few key features that I wanted to include for authenticity. The first and most important is the ability to repel evil.

Now normally, this would be the part where someone struggles to define what evil is, but I'm fucking Weiss Noir, I've got a pretty good definition. I also know that that Master Ore puts me on fucking eggshells standing near it, so it's a good start for repelling dark magic in general. I just need a way to give it the capacity to intelligently differentiate between who's evil and who isn't, and give the weapon the punch it needed to defy evil completely. I'd like to thank the modern day legal system for my solution. I simply ran some extremely well documented offers that were as ethical and took the matter as seriously as possible through the Arcana Liber. I didn't get many takers to offer their soul's up for Equestria's greater good after death, but I only needed two.

I made absolutely sure that they were willing to do this instead of going on to Elysium, but the two that ended up signing up for this thing were hardcore Crystal Pony vets from the Crystal War, who wouldn't take no for an answer when I started getting second thoughts. I've made sure that I will give them a Monument when the time comes, a really big one with their names plastered all over it in the toughest materials I can produce. I still fear that I had gone too far, and will fail to do enough to honor their decision.

With the core of my two weapons slated for use, I had my dudes begin production and assembly of the Master Sword. A blade made of Crystallized Master Ore, Harmonic and Sacred, with the strength and magical potency to repel evil. A Hilt and handle made from Timeshift Crystal, my answer to time manipulating magics, tuned and attuned to the blade to allow it to rewind away any damage dealt to it, no matter how grievous, and keep it as pristine and powerful as the day it was made. I also included a bunch of lesser charms in the space left over in the blade, such as a recall spell, first and foremost. Seriously, fuck the idea of some villain getting one up over the good guys because they made the sane choice to not keep the damn things on them twenty-four seven. Now with a simple, intentional shout, the weapon will just pop right up when you need it. I bet they could do some Kingdom Hearts Strike Raid shit with that, but then, I'm not going to be the user, so whatever.

But one weapon does not a duo of warrior princesses satisfy. I knew for a fact that it wouldn't. So I wracked my brain trying to consider what else to produce with the remaining Crystal Soul, after bringing the Master Sword to the Tree of Harmony to have it blessed. The tree seemed to have picked my brain enough to offer something substantial of it's own, and I was guided to one of the places where the plunder vine seeds had taken root. The tree fighting them off had turned a few of the corrupt, chaotic seeds to harmony, and I knew then what I had to do. I carefully dug up one of the Harmonic Plunder Vine Seeds, and took it back to the Shadow Realm in my most powerful sealing arrays. There was only one person, or rather, Zebra, I trusted with the production of the second weapon.

* * *

Entry Whatever four out of four

Malusi, my muse, my inspiration. Literally the only zebra I know, and also the best zebra of all time. When she saw the Gifted Vines, she attempted to knock me out with sleeping gas to take them for herself. After an intense discussion, she was more than happy to join me on an expedition to the Everfree to help me produce the second weapon. She refused to explain what exactly she was going to do to achieve that, but after three weeks meditating next to the Tree of Harmony, she scoured the Everfree, demanded I basically pander to her whims, and dug up plant after plant after plant, brewing them in a pit dug into the ground.

She went on to toss everything in, spat in it, and after some minor hallucinations on my part from being too close to the fumes, she had the completed whip. I asked her if she left room for the rest of the features, but she just sneered at me and said that nothing I add by this point could improve upon it. After I woke up tied to a bear the next day thanks to her amusing prank of drugging my food, I convinced her to allow me to look it over when we returned to the Shadow Realm, only to find she had my dudes perform the final enchantments on the whip already, which acted almost as though it were alive. It would change from form to form every time I looked away, being a leathery whip at one moment, and thick metal chains tipped with a heavy weight the next. As best as my R&D Dudes can tell me, it will resolve into a "true form" when it's user claims it.

I sent the princesses a letter saying that the newly christened Master Sword and Vampire Killer would be sent to them when they were complete ("When the two ponies who signed up to inhabit them kicked the bucket" was carefully not included in that letter), got drunk, and docked Malusi's pay for spiking my drinks the next day. Letting her exist in the same country as poison joke was clearly a mistake on my part.

* * *

I couldn't help myself afterwards. I went to the tree and inquired if it wanted me to help remove the plunder vines, or find some way to destroy them. It made me feel strangely bad when the tree expressed a desire for me to not make the attempt to preserve the timeline it had been working towards. I guess the tree had grown to understand my need to repay kindness with kindness, though, since it instead wished for me to spread what Malusi had learned of the Everfree forest's bounty. Probably to tempt future ponies into braving it.

Malusi agreed, but demanded that she first teach it to her own offspring, when she opted to have one. It made me feel a bit wrong to agree to her demand, considering she had been trying to develop an immortality serum for years on my payroll after her banishment, and therefore, it could be a long time before the tree's wish could be granted, but ultimately, I had no choice, since she was the only one who received the tree's wisdom, and by extension, the only one who could share it.


	9. (Past Chapter 3): Strike the Earth!

My first attempts at leadership sucked. For me, that is. Everyone else seemed to be on board with it by the end.

"Why not use the view-be-gone assemblage from Trotter's Tome of Reliquary?" one of the ponies argues. Tome Waiver, I think.

"Because I firmly believe we should not be trusting any magic that didn't stop Sombra the first time. He might be able to go so far as to detect it, making it a liability," I try to explain to the group of adults who had gathered to discuss keeping our group safe from being... Reacquired.

"Furthermore, while his spells may not be able to detect you all when you've got those Black Flame lamps, that just means he'll have to look for _signs_ of our camp instead. Strange structures, smoke, anything could give us away, and it would take him a day's work to do a quick scan of the countryside if he took flight."

The ponies look uncomfortable at my statement, just sort of shuffling around a bit.

"So yeah. My solution is pretty simple. We do this old school," I say, continuing internally. 'Although, technically, I guess it would just be school...'

Shaking out of thought, I explain. "We dig deep, leave no traces on the surface, and split our camp up into cells, each cell having minimal information on the others, and connected via underground railway."

A pony from the crowd speaks up loudly "We'd be trapped like rats if Sombra found us then!"

I give him my full attention when I answer with what I believe to be the truth. "We'll be trapped like rats if he finds us at all. Whether or not there's tons of rock above our heads."

I sweep my gaze over to the others in the group, who are starting to realize the danger they're in, even now. Or maybe that's wishful thinking.

"We'll all keep each other fed, warm, and above all else, safe, but from this point forward, we live in darkness."

Another naysayer pipes up at this point. "Like the ponies Sombra has in his mines?" she sneers.

"Are they?" I question back, confusing them.

"Are they really living? Their minds are trapped. Their fates aren't their own," I state with confidence.

I take a short walk around the crowd, letting them soak in my words, before I continue.

"I'm telling you that we will _live_ in darkness. I won't let you all merely _survive_ there. Our home until Sombra's end will be a realm all our own, a realm of shadows of our own making. We will take back the shadows that monsters have dared to hide in."

Glitter Bomb runs into the room, interrupting my ministrations of the crowd. "Everypony, there's a monster outside. Anypony who can fight, come with me now."

I get the feeling that this may be one of only a few opportunities to sway these ponies to my side, and follow along, already full of anticipation.

I've always been a bit of a thug when it comes to violence. Fighting's my idea of a good time, when I'm ready for it.

"This aught to be fun," I say to myself as I follow along with the stouter looking ponies who opt in to defend our camp.

* * *

If I live for a thousand years, I doubt I'll ever understand it. Looking at the roaring, hairy scorpion the size of a semi, I'm more excited than I've been in years, but a couple of guards had me scared out of my mind?

I see a group of crudely armored ponies trying to drive it off with long spears, and have an idea. It's simple physics. Pressure, speed, and sharpness.

I decide to make the attempt to imitate what I had seen of Sombra's dark crystals, aiming my horn at the snow in front of me, intending to create a glassy ice spear, to drive it directly into the scorpion like a piston by growing it from the bottom-out. Physics at it's finest.

As the magic builds up, and I mentally aim the magic's direction of growth towards the scorpion, I have a curious idea. If we captured it instead, surely we could make good use of it. Having a monster at my disposal would also help keeping the ponies in line. I try to shake the feeling away when I realize what a stupid idea that is, but it persists as I'm forced to finally unleash my building magical energy, firing the spell of crystal growth at the snow.

The thin spear, already growing at high speed from the ground distorts, it's sharp point turning blunt as my desire to capture the scorpion overwhelms me, and I'm unable to bring myself to end it's life when I could instead subjugate it, kind of like Pokemon, really.

The black ice crashes into the beast, already shaping around it into a collar as it thrashes to break the spear off at the middle. Where the spear struck, however, it continues to grow, the scorpion's thrashing only serving to break the crystalline ice up and spread it further over the beast.

It looks like the scorpion is winning against my rapidly draining magical reserves, however, as it's thrashing around removes more ice than it spreads. The ice that's there, however, is more than enough to keep the monster distracted while the rest of the ponies stab it to death with their spears.

The corpse is quickly overtaken as the ice encases it fully in it's death throes, like a fly in amber.

The ponies are cheering and hollering at their victory and for my help, but despite that, I feel exhausted and ill at what I had nearly done. I offer up a fake smile to the group and complain about the spell taking a bit out of me as I walk back inside slowly, heading for my room and bed.

Is that what _he_ feels all the time? That hunger? I failed to cast the spell even once without feeling like I would do anything to have that beast in a cage for my own uses.

The spell I attempted was taxing, yes, but the feeling it required to cast was so potent that it overwhelmed my reason, however momentarily.

Am I going to go insane if I keep doing this?

Instead of sleeping like I want to, I open a drawer, stuff a diamond pen in my mouth, and start slowly writing in my little black book.

 _"Entry #2, Day 4..."_ I write, deciding to experiment with the smallest forms of the spell that I can muster.

* * *

It's been roughly a week since I first arrived in the frozen north, and to celebrate this anniversary, I've been recruited to do backbreaking labor. I can hardly wait. The worst part is, mindlessly chewing through rock is, surprisingly, as relaxing in real life as it is in Minecraft, making it incredibly difficult to use Black Flames like I planned. I just keep getting too relaxed while I'm doing the job, and too satisfied when I check my progress.

"Sure you wouldn't rather just use a pick?" Glitter Bomb says, dragging a cart filled with red crystalline spheres behind him. Rupture Drops, he calls them.

He had been assigned to help me with step one of my plan, digging out the first cell somewhere away from our initial camp. I simply do not know enough about mining to recognize any dangers I might run into, which is something Crystal Ponies are supernaturally capable of.

"I wouldn't know where to begin. I can barely pick up a shovel, much less swing a pick," I respond. If I knew how to levitate objects, I might have been more receptive to his idea, but I've been stuck "hoofing it", so to speak, since I got here.

After I manage to get upset enough to mine another twenty meters or so, he stops me. "Hold on. There's something here."

I take a step back, quench the fires I had going, and let him do his thing, watching carefully to see if I can learn anything. He walks up and down the tract that I dug out, tapping the wall in a few places before hearing something that makes him look pleased. He turns around, rears forward, and bucks a random wall of my tunnel, cracking open what almost looks like a hidden chamber. The only thing that marks it as being a product of nature rather than labor are the massive swaths of gems growing up from the ground, and embedded in the walls, each and every one of them perfectly faceted in a variety of styles.

God I hope we end up with enough gems to like, deck everything out in them. These gemstones are downright scintillating, beautiful, even in the weak light of our crystal torches. The feeling only grows as I admire the gems, before I shake my head and let Glitter do his business. He pulls out a Rupture Drop, sets it in the middle of the small chamber, and measures out some thin, fiberglass material. Or maybe it's closer to fiber-optic cable, as it flexes slightly. Screw it, he has a length of _crystal wire_ that he deems suitable, which he somehow fuses to the drop with his bare hooves, before rolling it out into the tunnel, back several meters, and lain on the ground.

"So, would you like to do the honors?" he asks me.

"What do I do?" I ask in response, looking at the crystal thread on the ground blankly.

He answers with a mimed step. "Just stomp on it."

Shrugging internally, I walk up and step on the tip of the filament, cracking it. The crack suddenly spreads, turning the wire to dust as it races down it's length, curls around into the cavern, and unleashes an earthshaking boom that has me in a panic.

"Fuck! What the hell?!" I say, backing up. Is he going to bring this fucking place down on us?

He just laughs at my healthy respect for not setting off high explosives inside a stone tomb waiting to be made, and trots over, calling to me. "Come on, we should probably bring these back. We need lots of good crystal for your wacky plans," He mocks.

* * *

As I take a seat in Whittle's new workshop, I can't help but question. "So uhh, your husband set off high explosives in the tunnel we were digging. Is he just crazy, or does he know something I don't?"

She just starts laughing as she shoves pieces of gems together, fusing them to one another as though she had glue on them.

"You really _aren't_ from around here, are you?" She responds rhetorically, pulling a piece off of a gem crystal as though it were made of lego, and attaching it elsewhere.

"Crystal Pony magic is tied to crystals, of course. But we're still earth ponies. Rupture drops reflect that. When a rupture drop explodes, it also releases a burst of raw energy that fuses like to like, and separates unlike from unlike. Any gems and ores nearby are cracked free, and the stone itself is bonded even tighter together."

"A mine made by any self-respecting Crystal Pony would never collapse. And an explosive made by any Crystal Pony would never cause a cave-in. This is just the sort of stuff foals grow up knowing in the Crystal Empire."

She finishes her work, tapping the large piece of crystal lightly with a small chisel. The entire giant diamond collapses into tiny little spheres in the bucket she had set it in.

"How are marbles supposed to help us again?" She queries, probably wondering just what the hell I'm thinking.

I shake my head. "They're ball bearings. Think of them like solid oil. You've seen ponies slip and fall on them, right? Same basic principle. Use ball bearings instead of wheels for the minecarts, have them mounted to the rails instead of riding on them, and use gravity to push it along instead of pony-power."

"Higher speed, safer, easier to ride, and a smoother ride at that. They're not that much more difficult to maintain, either. Just dump the ball bearings out every so often, and check for jams that would indicate if there's broken ones. So easy, even those empty-headed morons who are still against my plans could do it," I explain further.

I neglect to mention that I've essentially reinvented a modified roller coaster. While fun, I doubt it would go over well to try and explain that I'm turning what is essentially a giant toy into what will be a large portion of our salvation.

The skeptical look she shoots the bucket implies that she believes them to be glorified toys, however, despite my best efforts.

That's absolutely fine, though. Her comments on Crystal Pony mines never collapsing gives me some good ideas for traps. All the best deceptions are based on preconceived notions, after all. It might not kill him, but I'd be proud to annoy Sombra if he comes into our little rat hole and experiences the joys of a massive cave-in.

"So where are you going to get the materials for miles and miles of railway? It's the furthest thing from cheap that there is, getting that much durable crystal," She criticizes.

I just bark out a short laugh. "I've got a few ideas."

* * *

I look at the bin filled with black chunks of rock with unadulterated greed.

"I hope you've got a really good reason for making us waste time to get this worthless stuff," The mining team's captain says to me, tapping his hooves impatiently. He must have spotted something mad in my eyes, because he backs up when I turn to smile at him.

"If this doesn't work, I'll gladly owe you all favors. If it does, though..." Laughter starts bubbling up from within my chest.

"Our little townstead will become the most technologically advanced place in the world, in one fell swoop."

One of them pipes up. "Uhh, how's a bunch of dirty graphite going to do that?" He's met with murmurs from the rest that generally agree.

I smile, smaller than before, and with hidden nervousness. "I'll be happy to show you." Pulling out a small chunk of the graphite rock, I toss it on the ground, and charge up Sombra's crystal growth spell, preparing to fire it at the rock. I'm flooded with those same dark urges that appear every other time I cast it, but this time, I'm ready.

"They will call us The Ancients, and _marvel_ at our _superiority_ ," I hiss, focusing on how I need this rock to bloom into it's full, crystalline form, how I need it to be as strong as I know it can be. The best damn material on earth, the holy grail of material sciences, graphene, a hexagonal crystalline lattice of carbon found in small, microscopic sheets in every hunk of graphite. A strength over two hundred times stronger than even steel, by weight.

I focus, harder and harder, both on my desire to grace this world with something utterly beyond anything these cave-ponies have seen before, to lord my genius over them with the results of my beautiful labor, and on every detail that I can remember from old science magazines and internet articles, every minor detail I attribute to single-island graphene, I pour into my magic, before I begin to feel faint, and my horn begins to ache.

I release the beam, and it strikes the hunk of carbon in a scintillating purple, black, and green blast.

At first, nothing seems to happen, before something almost like fuzz begins to overtake the graphite piece, like the frills of a dress, or a tutu, in a dark royal purple color that I just adore.

Before I can make a fool of myself leaping for joy, a voice cuts through the little world I had myself in focusing on the stone.

"So you made rock gossamer? How's that supposed to help us any?" The mining captain sneers at the object that's about to change his dumb little world.

"You're telling me you recognize this substance, and you don't realize what I've just done?" I say, confused at how they could already know about graphene, and not be stunned into silence at something as potentially useful as this.

He retorts. "Uhh, yeah, you've made decorations? My niece can make it too, that doesn't make the stuff useful. Rock gossamer just tears like tissue paper if you try to do anything with it."

How could these ponies be this dumb? I shake my head in amused exasperation as I look to the purple frill covered rock. "Typical of ponies, You just scratch the surface, but never think..."

I grab the massive pile of dark magic enhanced graphene, and will it to grow into itself mixed with generic dark crystal, layer after layer around my hooves with some remaining scraps of my magic. "...To look deeper."

I watch their expressions slowly change into confusion, and at least a small hint of fear.

"The most versatile substance on the planet, and they used it to make confetti," I sneer quietly to myself, walking over to an enchanted spike I had Whittle make for me for the test, and firmly pressing my shoe'd hoof onto it. So far so good.

When the mining crew starts to look at me like I'm crazy, I begin to feel practically giddy with excitement as I stomp on the spearpoint and crush it.

"Of course it would tear like tissue paper, you idiots. Diamonds and steel that thin would tear like tissue paper. But when you thicken it up a bit..." I just wave my armored hoof around a bit. "So, would anyone else like to debate me on this? No? Just going to stand there like a bunch of pissants?"

One of them looks a bit upset, and responds. "You don't have to be such a jerk about it," they say firmly, while the others just looks embarrassed.

It's around this point that I realize I'm enjoying myself entirely too much, and try to tone it back. "Right, right. My apologies. I'll attempt to make it up to you all for my behavior," I claim.

Shit, why was I saying all that stuff before? It seems I can't even use the spell with an urge to dominate a substance without getting defensive in the face of defiance. I should know better than to piss these ponies off. I can't allow just wanting to be top dog and impress them to turn me into even more of an ass than I already am.

Trying my hardest to somehow burn that lesson into my mind, I dismiss the group. "Alright, my little mining dudes, could you take the rest of that cart to the growth specialists? If we can begin producing large amounts of... Rock gossamer, we'll be much better off. God I hate that name," slips from my lips unintentionally.

A few laugh, most shrug, and they drag the cart off down the tunnels of our only cell towards where the crystal growers are.

I look down to my new, sickass purple horseshoes, and I can sense my old emotional state in it. I'm shocked to find that these crystals just... Feel different than the dark ones. The hunger for control is almost entirely overshadowed by my greed, tainting and distorting that drive to dominate. Something about it just sings to me of it's unique, different nature.

A new spell? It certainly feels _right_. In a way Sombra's Corrupt Crystal Creation simply doesn't.

* * *

As hard as I try, I can't sense the flame I set to burning directly below me in the Cell's deepest point. Now I just need to put it even deeper, and I'll feel comfortable with it's distance from any pony on the surface. The reason I feel the need to perform this experiment is simple. I'm going to make what is probably this world's largest hate-filled bonfire. A Hatesink, able to produce the heat my charges will need to endure and thrive. Buried as deep as needed, at the bottom of a deep hole, with vents directing the warmth throughout the cells. A steady supply of rubble and trash, along with me tending it, and I'll have all the heat a town could need.

"It's deep enough that I can't tell where it is, Glitter Bomb. Tell the miners to measure that out for me, if you would, and make the firepit deeper by ten times that amount," I command.

"Are you sure it needs to be _that_ deep, boy?" He responds curiously.

I shake my head. "Not at all, but we can't afford to take any risks without unreasonable redundancy. I didn't mention this when I was selling my plan to the camp leaders, but I _will_ be commissioning every possible stealth charm, as soon as I fully understand them and am confident in them not being a liability."

He looks at me funny. "So you lied to them?"

I shake my head again. "No, Glitter. I told the truth. I don't believe we should trust in stealth charms alone to hide us. That's exactly why I'll be putting forth so much of my own effort to understanding them, and why I'll be pushing so hard for ponies to do further research and development on them. I want any spell we trust to be verified beyond any shadow of a doubt."

He seems to have accepted that. "Alright. I'll tell the miners to make it deeper. We're going to be having a little celebration tonight after work's done. Do you want in?"

"Got any crystal soda?" I question, hoping against reason that crystal ponies just have some weird crystal version of pop.

His confusion throws my heart into the depths of despair, and his words crush my every hope and dream. "What's soda?"

I harden my heart to this cruel world, and resist the urge to cry. "Don't worry about it. I don't think I'll be showing up. I've got other ways of indulging."

He laughs. "Come on, you might make a few friends. I don't know how many friends you'll make doing your weird experiments, or with your nose stuck in that book."

"Hmph. Maybe if ponies learned how much fun research and development can be, I very well could," I snark.

He just laughs again at my admittedly petulant tone. "Well, drinking or studying, you won't make friends freezing your tail off out here while you're doing it. Let's both go in and get warmed up, boy."

The two of us trot down to the hidden entrance and make our way into the warm dark depths below.

As I pass by dim crystal torches, and warmly greet the ponies walking by with their light-amplifying goggles on, I see that at some point, some ponies had mined out a large empty space for the foals to play in.

I see a lot of them playing with marbles. They must be a few of the ones Whittle has been making for my transportation network. A few of the foals are just sitting near the vents that feed hot air from the hatesink up closer to the surface, getting cozy and rambling about inane little things to one another. I spot an older couple on a bench nearby, just watching fondly from a distance.

As we walk down to the mine, I see a few of the miners on break, swapping stories, food and drink as they just sit around waiting for the boss to come pester them. I hear snippets of a mare talking about her sister, who's still in the Empire. I see a trio tossing dice, betting gems since we haven't started minting currency yet. Despite the lack of monetary risk in the gambling, they're having a blast. Maybe I'll introduce card games to these ponies. Really amp up their fun time.

In the bottom of the Hatesink, around the central bonfire, I see a bunch of ponies just sitting around the fire, talking to each other. Their bodies were somehow silhouetted against the flame as it draws light towards it, only for it to scatter off of the ponies between it and them. I can sense their hate for Sombra, as dark as the fire they were warmed by. And a few, smaller hatreds as well. It seems after I explained how the Black Flame works, ponies have just started using the Hatesink's flame as a place to vent to one another, talking about missing family members, talking about Sombra's cruelty. Even just talking about stubbed hooves and the time they accidentally drank spoiled milk. The hate passes between them like flowing water, the pressure inside them relieving slowly.

The exhaustion that had started to creep up on me, both mental and magical, from near constant use of dark spells after dark spells begins to fade as I watch ponies just... Living.

It's around that moment that I realize I'd throw away anything I have to let them keep this for a little while longer. It's a selfless thought, sure... But that's not really what they need, is it?

They need me to keep my head on straight, to keep from becoming a liability to them. They need me to keep using dark magic, the one thing Sombra's never faced before. They don't need me to discard things like my sanity and morality, but to hold onto them tightly. And as much as I hate to say it, I'll need some friends to help me do that. Shit, I hope Glitter doesn't fucking say "I told you so" if I agree to go to his stupid party and end up enjoying it. God damn it.

"Hey, Glitter. I think I will go to your little shindig. I don't really have anything better to do," I tell him as cool-ly and subtly as I can.

"Oh? Finally seeing things my way, boy?" He grins knowingly at me.

God damn it all, I grin back.


	10. (Noir Report) The Occasional Benefits of Experimental Contamination [Royal Crystal Growth]

Entry #3, Day 8

Near the event of this entry's provocation, I had made a mistake, one that was very fundamental, but whose results were extremely pleasing. I had attempted to force control over SC3, focusing on feelings I had at the time believed were those of Dominion, and wishes that I thought were those of dominion over substance. The feelings I had actually called on were those of Greed, and my desires were those of enrichment. I had been attempting to prove to a group of ponies the veracity of my claims in discovering a new, unique substance, and, in my desperate bid to prove to them what I believed the material was capable of, prepared and fired a beam of powerful magic that I had believed was SC3. The result was, instead of the substance I desired, or a shadowy, dark version of it, a gorgeous purple color that was the perfect shade, dark and alluring.

It's only now that I sit down and write that I suspect the color of this magic is related to which colors I find desirable. Likewise, the properties of the material born from it are, dare I say it, slightly greater than those I attribute to the substance's mundane form. In the times this book was written in, I see no need to reveal precisely what the mundane substance was, for the sake of keeping knowledge of a powerful tool from the hooves of my enemies, and will not elaborate upon it further here. Instead, I will expound on the spell's results on other forms of crystal.

Much like Sombra's Corrupt Crystal Creation, the spell I will label as Royal Crystal Growth is able to produce generic crystal. Unlike SC3, however, it cannot produce crystal from seemingly nothing. It requires a visible target with properties suited to the spell in question. Most notably, properties the user comprehends, and wishes to improve upon.

Unlike what I have been told of crystal enchanting done by the ponies of The Shadow Realm, this spell is incapable of producing any properties that cannot exist in it's parent crystal in some way. Furthermore, I am led to suspect that while Crystal Enchanting can produce any color of crystal, Royal Crystal Growth is limited by the user's own preferred colors. Despite my best efforts, I am only able to make Royal Crystals which are shades of purple. _(and in one instance mentioned hereafter, cyan)_

The most obvious uses for the spell are those of physical properties. Further differentiating it from SC3, Royal Crystals lack the correct magics to control and dominate, it's magics being purely internal and improving upon the original substance. Snowflake Obsidian becomes sharper and harder, Sapphires become flexible and optically superior, and Diamonds melt into a puddle of sludge. I was very embarrassed at the time, but it seems one possible misfiring of this spell can cause undesirable substances to be destroyed, owing to my strong disdain for diamonds.

(I have an extremely strong disdain for diamonds.)

Needless to say, this spell is extraordinarily useful, and has quickly grown to become one of my favorites. Users must be cautious however, as the creation of substances via this spell invokes a strong feeling of possessiveness and avarice towards those creations. In myself, this resulted in a violent reaction towards critique of my creations. Users should be cautious that they do not discard things which are important in the throes of passion that one experiences during the creation of beautiful objects.

Though I am unsure as to where I have heard of it, I cannot help but be reminded of a certain cursed tome (that is not this one) when I reflect on the properties of this spell.

Unfortunately, with a spell such as this, the explanation of it's uses must be accompanied with a description of it's products, and, indeed, suspecting these products to be the subject of my own personage, rather than something which may be expected for others, you will have to once again forgive me for the inaccurate portrayals you will now bear witness to, beginning with it's effects on a personal favorite substance of mine. Lonsdaleite.

When Royal Crystal Creation is cast on this extraordinarily rare gemstone, I had been able to evoke crystals of supreme durability and beauty, and whose inner magic transformed kinetic impacts back on themselves. Furthermore, though I did not intend this initially, it's harmonic properties are enviable, judging from the beautiful tone that a strike to a rod of it evoked.

Though they once again pale in comparison to equal effort from a crystal pony, I am nonetheless filled with pride at my new dark magic creation, one uniquely my own. To that end, I name this variant of lonsdaleite Royal Vibranium, after the appealing sound of it's vibrations. It, alongside Royal Cloth, have made up nearly the whole of my wardrobe since their discovery. And damn those who call it gaudy. I've never been more pleased with my aesthetic.

On it's own, Royal Vibranium is an extraordinary substance whose properties are familiar to me, sharing traits (and it's name) with a fabled substance from my homeland. A resistance to blows, and strange properties of vibration. Though I have yet to test it's use in weapons, I am certain it will excel.

Other, less noteworthy experiments I took included casting the spell on crystal sugar, resulting in an intoxicating paste, casting the spell on salt, resulting in a lustrous metallic crystal, casting it on quartz, resulting in a crystal which wails even more loudly when vibrating, and finally, casting it on various, much smaller diamonds, the only one of which to survive was the one that was initially tinted purple. The purple diamond in question grew diamonds which were a bright cyan, had metal-like properties, and refused to grow in anything but cubic chunks. What the results of this magic say about me, I do not know.

Perhaps I should refer to the mixture of Royal Cloth and Royal Vibranium as Adamantium? I'm not positive there exists a substance in this world which bears that name yet... If there is, I'll seek to obtain some for further testing.


	11. (Present Chapter 3): Roast Busters

"And so, having received the coins from a supposedly historic figure, one whose return has been vouched for by investigators, and whose appearance here in Ponyville is corroborated by several reputable witnesses, I believe their value as collectors items is only exceeded by the rarity of the aforementioned items. I thank you for your consideration, and expect your timely reply," Twilight finishes dictating to Spike.

"How do you spell "Corroborated"?" he asks, chewing the tip of his writing quill, to which Twilight responds with the answer.

"And... "Aforementioned"?" he asks again, a bit more sheepishly. Twilight answers again.

"... "Consideration"?" It's around this point that Twilight simply plucks the quill from his hand and jots in the words for him.

"Anyway, yeah, Gilda! I'm sure that Mister Antique Appriciator's _Historic Amassment of Practically Appreciated Antiques_ will appreciate what is practically a mass of historical antiques like these," She says confusingly.

"Gesundheit" Spike responds, making Gilda and Dash chuckle while Twilight looks unamused.

"Alright, so she'll just leave the coins with you and you'll get her the cash?" Dash clarifies, making Twilight nod.

"Yes, It's very likely that you'll receive it in installments, instead of all at once, both to keep the market from being damaged, but also because buyers will need to be found."

Gilda feels annoyed, then cautiously frightened of that annoyance, prompting her to quashe down the feeling before it can properly manifest. "Yyyeah. It's cool. I can be patient," she says for her own sake.

Twilight seems to pick up on the mood. "If you need anything else, Gilda, please don't hesitate to ask."

She then poses a question. "Have you found anywhere to stay yet while I handle this for you?"

Gilda scratches her foreleg lightly. "Dash said I could crash at her place for a while." Dash nods sagely at this.

"No friend of mine is bunking at some dirty motel while I've got room," Dash claims.

"I'm not sure I would call Woodwork's inn a "dirty motel"..." Twilight says, chastising Rainbow Dash.

"Yeah, yeah. We're going to to out. You coming Twilight?" Dash questions.

Twilight shakes her head. "No, sorry, I took so long helping the two of you that I've fallen a bit behind on my magic practice. I'll need to take a raincheck on that."

Spike pipes up, hopping up and down "Oh, oh! Can I go? I haven't done anything all day!"

Twilight hums. "You don't want to stay and help me practice spells?" At Spike's negatory headshake, she shrugs. "Alright, but stay with Dash and Gilda, and be back before too long."

"Aww yeah!" Spike shouts, hopping over and out the door with the duo.

As the trio walk out, Dash speaks up. "So, Spike have you heard about the new unicorn in town?" she trails off as they leave earshot.

Twilight looks curious at this, but shrugs it off, pulling a spellbook off one of her shelves and cracking it open.

* * *

"Come one, come all! Come and witness the amazing magic of the Great and Powerful Trixie!" A pony calling themselves "The Great and Powerful Trixie" commands, as her wagon unfolds into a stage, and she hops out onto it.

"Watch in awe as the Great and Powerful Trixie performs the most spectacular feats of magic ever witnessed by pony eyes!" She shouts, unleashing a barrage of spinning flares and fireworks. The smile on her face as she does so seems more genuine than her claims, as she readies herself to bask in the crowd's praise.

Rarity mutters from within the crowd itself. "My, my, my... What boasting!"

Spike looks ready to say something, but Gilda interrupts. "Yeah, she's got spunk!" Gilda chortles.

A black-coated unicorn mare smugly retorts within earshot. "There's nothing wrong with showing off your talents, after all."

This seems to set Applejack off, as she makes a claim of her own. "There's a difference between showin' off and showin' off like yer better than everypony else."

"Yeah, especially when you've got _me_ around being better than everypony else," Rainbow brags, ignoring the resulting halfhearted glares from her friends as she hoofbumps a laughing Gilda, only to notice them afterwards. "Oh, uhh, I mean... Magic-shmagic. Boo!"

Trixie's cheerful smile rapidly turns bitter. "What's this, _neigh_ -sayers in _Trixie's_ audience?"

"Do they not realize? Do they not know they stand in the presence of the most talented and magical unicorn in all of Equestria?" She scoffs, flicking her head.

Rarity huffs. "Well, she has a very inflated opinion of herself, doesn't she?"

Rainbow Dash nods her head. "Yeah! What makes you so awesome anyway?" She asks as Gilda smirks standing next to her.

Trixie waves her head theatrically. "You mean other than the fact that Trixie alone holds the power to vanquish an ursa major?!"

Her stage unleashes a spray of magical fireworks that form their sparks into the neon outline of a star-studded beast, prompting the crowd to ooh and ahh.

"When all hope was lost, the ponies of Hoofington had no one to turn to," She says with mock despair as the magically drawn bear bobs menacingly.

"But the Great and Powerful Trixie stepped in, and with her awesome magic, vanquished the ursa major and sent it back to its cave deep within the Everfree Forest!"

The bear illusion is popped into stardust by the tiny stick figure Trixie that is sent up with wand in hand to vanquish it.

This prompts a more sizable reaction from the crowd, even prompting two unicorn colts to practically sing her praises.

"I mean it's not like you saw it, she could just be saying that!" Spike says to the duo.

Trixie ignores Spike's words, and opts to instead further hype herself up. "Yes, my little admirers, Trixie is absolutely the best in Ponyville."

The crowd fails to respond loudly enough to please her, so she continues.

"Don't believe The Great and Powerful Trixie?" She laughs faintly to herself.

"Well then, I hereby challenge you, Ponyvillians. Anything you can do, I can do better-" she is interrupted.

♫"We can do anything better than you,"♫ The black-coated unicorn snipes back suddenly, melodically, and loudly with a smug grin.

Trixie scowls, feeling a hint of something build up. "No you can't."

♫"Yes we can,"♫ The black mare hums.

"No you can't!"

♫"Yes we can!"♫

Trixie, feeling the urge to entertain the crowd and curious where this heckler is going, allows her magic to bubble up in her chest and begins to sing along. ♫"No you can't!"♫

The heckler in question just grins further, and their voice is joined by several others, who decide to join in. ♫ _"Yes we can, yes we ca~an!"_ ♫

Applejack steps up to the plate first, with a lasso tied to her tail. ♫"Any trick that'cha got, we've got one better, betcha a bit that I'm better'n you."♫

♫"No you're not,"♫ Trixie responds, grinning at whatever dumb trick this hayseed is about to pull, only to be shocked when she begins performing complex rope tricks.

♫"I sure am,"♫ Applejack says, leaping inside and outside of the spinning loop of rope with ease and grace.

♫"No you're not!"♫ Trixie says louder, igniting her horn to pull out a rope to trip up the farmer, who dodges it without even paying attention as she is focused entirely on her footwork.

♫"I sure am!"♫ Applejack finishes, throwing her lasso to a nearby tree to yank an apple off of it.

♫"No you're not!"♫ Trixie shrieks with frustration, trying to wrap the rope around Applejack's legs.

♫"I sure am, I sure am!"♫ Applejack sings as she stomps the offending rope flat like a snake, catching the apple in her mouth and chomping it down in one bite.

Trixie wracks her brain quickly.

♫"Trixie flies a rocket! Look, she even docks it!"♫ She exclaims, launching an empty firework around over the crowd's heads in a complex flight before landing the hollow paper tube right on the heckler's horn with her careful telekinesis.

The mare retorts, igniting her horn and causing the paper to pop into shreds. ♫"I blow it to pieces, and that's when it ceases!"♫

Applejack pipes up proudly out of nowhere, pulling an apple out of her hat. ♫"I live on apples and bread!"♫

Trixie looks confused and questions. "And only on that?"

"Yeah!" Applejack says.

"So can a bat," Trixie dismisses, turning to the unicorns in the crowd.

She needs to get these ponies back on her side, and fast. To that end, she breaks out one of her most complicated performances as she begins her verse.

♫"Any spell you can cast Trixie casts faster, Trixie casts any spell faster than you!"♫ She claims, allowing her horn to briefly flash before summoning up several colorful balls.

♫"No she can't!"♫ The crowd jeers.

♫"Yes she can!"♫ Trixie retorts, beginning to throw the balls in the air, juggling them with only the briefest flashes of levitation.

♫"No she can't!"♫ They say, watching the balls go flying around.

♫Yes she can!♫ Trixie continues, juggling the balls even faster.

♫"No she can't!"♫ The crowd continues, not yet impressed.

♫"Yes she can!"♫ Trixie further continues, summoning up more balls even as she juggles the ones she has out already.

♫"No she can't,"♫ The crowd dims, slowly entranced by the display.

♫"Yes she can!"♫ She claims, summoning up brief flashes of light and fireworks in-between every juggle she performs.

♫"No she can't..."♫ They finish, starting to look very impressed.

♫"Ye~es she~e... _Ca~an!_ "♫ Trixie sings, tossing the balls into the crowd, where none of the unicorns manage to grab one before they bonk them softly on the head.

She laughs privately to herself by their shocked and awed expressions, waiting for more.

Agitated by Trixie's claims of speed, Rainbow Dash takes her opportunity to join in.

♫"Any rainbow you make I could make cooler, I can make rainbows way cooler than you!"♫ She sings, flying rapidly around town and through several clouds to amass the rainwater needed to surround herself in a scintillating chromatic glow as it impacts her when she halts on a dime in the middle of Trixie's stage.

♫"No you can't!"♫ Trixie builds up her magic, launching it at the rainbow surrounding Dash.

♫"Yeah I can!"♫ Dash says with her eyes closed smugly, unaware of her rainbow starting to swirl around her.

♫"No you can't!"♫ Trixie laughs again, as Rainbow is put in the spin cycle.

At this point, Gilda takes to the stage, trying to pull Dash out of the tornado with flapping wings.

♫"Yeah she can!"♫ Gilda shouts, fighting the weather anomaly.

♫"No she can't!"♫ Trixie's pleased expression turns to a scowl as she prepares another spell, only for her to be blown back when Gilda yanks Dash out of the tornado, making it explode into an even larger, more beautiful rainbow.

♫"Yeah we can, yeah we can!"♫ The pair sing, spinning around in the middle of the awe-inspiring weather feat from the residual forces.

Trixie begins to get nervous, the crowd cheering for the pony and griffon's amazing trick.

She actually takes a step back when they're all cheering for these random upstarts who took over her stage.

She forces herself to smirk and steadies herself. ♫"Anything you're great at, Trixie is Greater, The Great and Powerful's greater than you!"♫

♫"No she's not!"♫ Spike snorts.

♫"Yes she is!"♫ Trixie gaffs.

♫"No she's not,"♫ Applejack retorts.

♫"Yes she is!"♫ Trixie laughs.

♫"No she's not!"♫ Rarity cries.

♫"Yes she is, yes she is!"♫ Trixie lies.

Trixie, already stressed out, realizes she's running out of tricks, and hides her sweating face behind her hat for a moment as she flips it around to begin her next act.

♫"Rabbits out of her hat, nobody could top that!"♫ She says desperately, whipping her cap around and pulling a stuffed animal out of it.

♫"I could sew one finer, as I'm a designer,"♫ Rarity responds, pulling the curtains from Trixie's stage and turning it into an adorable plush bunny.

♫"Trixie can learn any spell!"♫ She strains.

"From out of a book?" The black mare from before asks.

"Yeah?" Trixie says obviously, which only makes them laugh.

"Yeah, _you'd_ have to look. Ya chump!" They joke, making Trixie's blood boil with humiliation as they turn on them.

The mare in question is more than happy to continue. ♫"Any chant you incant I can chant cleaner, I'll incant any chant cleaner than you."♫

♫"No you can't,"♫ Trixie says bitterly.

♫"Yes I 'cant,"♫ They slang back with amusement.

♫"No you... can't?"♫ Trixie says, confusion growing on her face.

♫"Yes I 'cant!"♫ They say agreeably.

♫"Wait, who can't?"♫ Pinkie pops out of a bush nearby to ask, her question going unanswered as the mare finishes.

♫"Yes I 'cant, yes I 'ca~ant!"♫ The mare cheers.

Trixie throws her hooves up. ♫"Yes you ca~an't!"♫

She decides to turn to her stage, and activates some of the hidden mechanisms to launch more neon fireworks into the air.

♫"Any yarn you can spin, I know one better! The ones that I know are all better than yours!"♫ Trixie claims, preparing the fireworks for another animated show.

♫"Ones with scares?"♫ Snails asks slowly

♫"Ones with laughs!"♫ Trixie responds affirmatively.

♫"Ones with twists?"♫ Snips questions excitedly.

♫"Every twist!"♫ Trixie nods with pride.

♫"No you can't!"♫ Spike retorts, arms crossed.

♫"Yes I can, yes I can!"♫ Trixie finishes, standing tall on her back legs as the neon fireworks turn into a menagery of magical monsters, with little stick figure Trixie standing against them.

Rarity steps up to the stage now. ♫"All of your clothes dear, I could sew them finer, you'll find that my stitches are finer than yours!"♫

♫"No you can't!"♫ Trixie says self-consciously.

♫"Yes I can!"♫ Rarity says, converting her giant plush rabbit into raw materials swirling around her.

♫"No you can't!"♫ Trixie shouts.

♫"Yes I can!"♫ Rarity continues, her magic rapidly stitching and restitching the cloth.

♫"No you can't!"♫ Trixie practically begs.

♫"Yes I can, yes I ca~an!"♫ Rarity finishes, showing off her vastly improved duplicate of Trixie's stage outfit.

Trixie, having grown to regret this entire day rapidly, still has it in her to try one last time to impress and entertain the ponies who came to watch her perform.

♫"Trixie can juggle knives!"♫ She says, hoping she won't have to prove it as exhausted as she is.

♫"I can bake apple pies!"♫ Applejack shouts over the din.

♫"Trixie calls down thunder!"♫ Trixie tries again.

♫"Nah, you'd probably blunder!"♫ Gilda laughs.

♫"Trixie can cast _any_ spell!"♫ She boldly claims.

"So you can cast "Fly"?" The dark-coated mare questions with genuine curiosity.

"No?" She responds, prompting them to shrug.

"Neither can I."

It's too much for the performer, her body starts to shake with pure unrestrained rage and humiliation, after that final stupid little inane comment that that heckler made finally pushes her over the edge.

"Enough!" she stops singing with a stomp, shocking the crowd into silence with her one, violently spat word.

"Show's over! I'm packing it up!" Trixie shouts, running into her wagon and causing it to fold back up, the ponies still on it jumping back and off the stage in shock.

"You want to make a fool out of the mare trying to entertain you bumpkins, then you should leave _me_ out of it!" She screams, slamming the wagon's window slats shut.

She fails to see the ponies outside, who had honestly been having a lot of fun, and who look disappointed that the show's over.

The shadow-coated pony who had started all of this is nowhere to be found.

* * *

Weiss awakens from his meditation as the shadow clone disperses.

"Hmm. I may have gone too far, starting that music number," He says to himself as he rises from the black glassy floor of his tower.

"Well, it should still put her on track to help me with my plans, even with Gilda interfering in the timeline."

He walks over to an archway with his arms folded primly behind his back, and observes Ponyville past the distant treetops of the Everfree.

"And judging by Spike's restraint at the magic show, it's unlikely that he will provoke Snips and Snails into drawing out that damn Ursa Minor," He sneers, afraid of the consequences of trying to face a beast like that.

One thing he's firmly aware of is just how weak he is without the Arcana Nox. Something that studying the Alicorn Amulet should remedy quite nicely until he can return to the Shadow Realm and reactivate it.

Without The Arcana, his chances of defeating anything in combat are slim at best, he feels.

Judging by how Celestia and Luna haven't shown up, either his earlier bluff worked, or they believe he'll be little more than a speed bump for the Element Bearers.

A thought like that can't help but evoke laughter from the dark sage, a cruel, satisfied sort of laughter that one only gets from knowing something that one's opponents do not.

"Trixie leaves town disgraced and insecure, but not destitute and homeless, I offer her the power she craves in return for bringing the amulet to me. Ponyville's less hostile to her because she wasn't successful at embarrassing the Element Bearers. Like clockwork, the hands tick towards fun times."

He starts laughing again, in a perfectly sane manner for one who had just been monologuing to an audience of zero.

* * *

"And she was talking about how she took down an Ursa Major!" Spike relays to Twilight, who is working on removing a giant mustache from the Golden Oaks Library.

"Really? That's some claim," Twilight responds curiously, finally getting the arborious 'stache to ceace existing.

"Yeah, you probably could have beaten her with one hoof tied behind your back, I mean, twenty-five magic tricks and counting! It's incredible!" he points to the tree she just finished scraping facial hair off of.

Twilight looks sheepish, and even goes so far as to blush a bit at the praise from her number-one assistant. "I don't know Spike, boasting or not, if what you told me is true, Trixie is still a very talented mare. _I_ can't even perform levitation _that_ fine yet."

Spike scratches his head. "Yeah, I guess it _was_ a pretty cool show. I kinda feel bad that she thought we were making fun of her. I know Snips and Snails think she's the best thing since sliced hay."

Twilight ponders at that. "I think you might have a point Spike. Tell you what, how about tomorrow, we get the girls together, and try to make it up to her before she leaves?"

"I'll need to tell Pinkie she'll need to fast track her party plans if we're going to catch her before she goes, though," Twilight thinks to herself.

"What makes you so sure Pinkie's preparing a party for _Trixie_ of all ponies?" Spike asks.

Twilight responds, explaining her logic. "I doubt anything less would make Pinkie Pie miss a magic performance that nearly the whole town went to see."

Spike shrugs, and the pair walk off to Sugarcube Corner to tell Pinkie about what they've learned.

* * *

"We're back with your smoothie, oh Great and Powerful one!" Snips mumbles through his teeth, holding a tray bearing a trio of milkshakes in his mouth.

"For some reason, the Hay machine's been rented out, so they gave us a few different flavors to make up for it!" He apologizes.

'Trixie's bad day can't be made any worse, she supposes', she thinks to herself, picking up the strawberry one and taking a long sip.

Seeing the two colts are still there looking at her expectantly with their own smoothies, she feels exasperation rise up in her lungs.

"Yes?" Trixie questions, wanting to get this over with.

Snails pipes up. "Could you tell us another story?"

Snips follows up on that energetically "Yeah, could you tell us the story of how the Great and Powerful Trixie vanquished the Ursa Major?"

Trixie feels a migraine threatening to pop up, any attempts at boasting turning bitter after today's farce.

She groans. "Trixie is far too exhausted from her incredible feats being met with mockery and belittlement to do such a thing. Begone with you."

The two look saddened at this, and slowly walk away.

"Maaan, Trixie sure looked sad," Snails says obviously after a few minutes.

Snips thinks to himself, and pipes up. "Yeah, there's gotta be some way we can cheer her up! I bet all we gotta do is show Ponyville that she's the real deal!"

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Snips smirks at his best friend.

"Why don't penguins swim south for the summer?" Snails drawls questioningly.

* * *

"Oh piss," Weiss says, as he spots the trail of shattered trees leading to Ponyville.

Walking to the center of the room, the pony plops down and enters a meditative pose, dark magic wafting around him until it splits off into another shadow clone.

The clone frowns sharply. "That stinking animal better not crush Trixie's wagon. I don't need to wait several months while Trixie slums it in a rock farm instead of getting me my amulet."

Without another word spoken, the clone leaps out of the open window, bursting into smoke on impact with the ground, and reforming mid-gallop towards Ponyville.

* * *

Trixie is woken up by pounding on her wagon door, leading her to blearily walk over with her shouting voice ready, only to see it's those two colts from before.

The duo begin rapidly rambling, but Trixie is unable to parse it, and simply responds angrily.

"Didn't Trixie tell the two of you to begone? That doesn't mean "come here and wake Trixie up at this ungodly hour of night"."

Snips manages to form a coherent sentence to explain with. "We have a... bit of a problem."

Snails corrects his friend, responding with "Actually, it's a whole problem..."

Trixie's eyebrow raises. "And what could be so important that it needs to be dealt with in the middle of the night?"

It's around this point she spots a gigantic star-spangled bear pushing it's way through the treeline, directly towards Snips, Snails, and by extension herself.

The trio run away as fast as they can from the charging bear as it kicks Trixie's wagon aside, where it crashes into a building and becomes splinters.

Before long, they're all backed up against the wall, with the monster bearing down on them and citizens looking on in terror and fear. Twilight, who had been walking home from Sugarcube Corner, spots the commotion, and runs to stand the bear down while Spike runs for cover.

"Hey Trixie, now's your chance to vanquish it just like your story!" Snips says, nudging her forward.

"It sure wasn't easy getting that Ursa Major into town, after all!"

"What? Is this entire town made up of crazy ponies?!" Trixie shouts, trying to back up.

Snails decides to interject "Come on, you're the Great and Powerful Trixie! You've got this!"

The duo try for a reprise while Twilight is contemplating the spells she'll need.

♫"Any beast we could beat you could beat surely, now here's your chance to prove better than we!"♫

"You're both nuts!"

♫"But you can!"♫

"Call the guards!"

♫"But you can!"♫

"We need help!"

♫"But you can!"♫

♫"But you can, can, can, can!"♫ They sing together, trying to encourage her to finally prove to everyone that she's really the greatest, only for her to respond.

♫"No I can't, can't, can't, can't!.. No... I... ca~an't!"♫ Trixie crushes her eyes shut and finally admits the truth, shocking them both utterly.

"What!?" Snips and Snails shout at the same time.

Trixie shouts what she had thought to be fairly obvious. "Nobody can vanquish an Ursa Major, I just made that up as part of my character for the act!"

"Made it up?!" They respond, shocked and suddenly realizing the danger they're in from the Ursa.

At the same time, Twilight, who had been ignoring the commotion, quietly and impressively lulls the monster to sleep with music drawn from reeds using wind, milk taken from the local cows using a water tower, and gentle rocking from immense levitation magic, before lifting it up and carrying it all the way back to it's cave in her magical aura.

Trixie looks between the Unicorn who had just, if not vanquished, certainly pacified the Ursa, the townsfolk who are looking at her with an expression she doesn't comprehend, and the two little colts who caused all this trouble.

It's simply too much. Abandoning theatrics, Trixie bolts out of town as fast as she can.

Gilda, who had been watching the entire thing with a rapidly growing suspicion, takes flight after her.

'I really hope this isn't what I think it is.' Gilda thinks to herself as her suspicions are confirmed.

* * *

At Ponyville's border, Trixie is stopped by the mare from yesterday who started the ruination of her show, standing alone in the middle of the road.

"You! You're that unicorn!" Trixie says dumbly, jabbing a hoof towards them with a snarl.

The mare simply smiles. "I certainly am. Queen Meany, Professional Heckler, at your service."

"And what need does Trixie have for a heckler of _any_ kind?" Trixie growls.

They shrug. "You really don't. But maybe you're in the market for something to increase your magical power instead."

"I heard your little lament back there. It just tears you up inside that you don't live up to your own hype, doesn't it?" They jab at Trixie's insecurities.

Not waiting for Trixie's response to that, Meany continues. "I've been looking for a... Particularly useful artifact. I'll bankroll you, provide funding to restore your lost livelihood, and in return, you keep an eye out for something called the Alicorn Amulet. Bring it to me, and I'll complete our deal by teaching you magic that will let you live up to every tall tale you've ever spoken."

Using a bolt of purple lightning, they summon a wooden chest filled with gems and golden trinkets.

Trixie looks tempted, very tempted. Her home, gone, all her possessions, smashed to pieces. All she would have to do is bring this annoying mare one measly artifact in return for all of that?

She opens her mouth.

"So you _are_ doing this crap again," A distinctly non-Trixie voice interjects, landing in front of Trixie.

"Get the flock out of here Weiss. I'll hurt you if you don't," She says, cracking her talons.

The now-ousted Weiss frowns. "You're really fucking this up right now Gilda. Why don't you go back home and cry about how scary you are."

Gilda smirks, walking forward. "You're trying to piss me off. Right? That's what you do. You piss ponies off, make em do dumb stuff, and then swoop in to take advantage of it."

Judging by Weiss's genuine angered reaction, Gilda suspects that she's touched a nerve. She turns to Trixie.

"Don't listen to him, he's trying to use you." Gilda explains to the confused Trixie.

"He offered me the exact same thing. "I give you what you want more than anything else, and all you've got to do is learn dark magic"."

"Look, that bear broke your stuff, right? Talk to Twilight. You're owed something for that."

Weiss takes a step forward, his disguised clone's hair flickering with black flames as his anger grows. "Don't listen to her, Trixie. She's one of the ones who showed you up! They might offer you some pittance of bits, but I'm offering a king's ransom! More importantly, I'm-"

Gilda interrupts. "Twilight also got together everyone who jumped up to ruin your show, and has em ready to say sorry. They're waiting for you if you just come back into town."

She looks ashamed in a familiar way. "An apology is something we _really_ owe you right now."

Weiss's mane explodes into flames when he senses Trixie's temporary feelings of insecurity that he had been cultivating dim and then be snuffed out by Gilda's words.

His teeth audibly grind when he realizes his musical number altered Trixie's act enough to endear her to the town instead of alienate her. "You've fucked me over, Gilda. You really have."

"Happy to hear it, chump!" Gilda snarks back, smirking.

With the knowledge in mind that he's lost this battle of wits and temptation, Weiss steps back, and announces for the world to hear. "You will regret those words. We will meet again."

"Avidus!" He throws his horn in the air, and a bolt of lightning crashes down, dragging his clone and treasures away in a flash of magical energy.

Gilda stares at the spot Weiss's clone once occupied, before turning to Trixie. "Come on, let's get you that apology! Twilight's got everypony at Sugarcube Corner."

When they arrive, Trixie is stunned at the cacophony of cheering she receives when the doors open and the lights come on. A banner reads "Thanks for the Show!". Pinkie Pie bounces up and down cheerfully, hopping over to Trixie and dragging the stunned mare over to the smoothy machine she rented out for the party, shoving a shake into Trixie's grip.

Extra hay, just the way she likes it.

* * *

_"Dear Princess Celestia,_

_My friends and I have learned a very valuable lesson about friendship: There may come times when the way a pony behaves or boasts can come off as inappropriate, but we should try not to react inappropriately ourselves, trying to one-up a pony who chooses to brag can lead to hurt feelings all around, and worst of all, the proudest of ponies are often unwilling to admit flaws and hurt feelings alike until it's almost too late. We should instead appreciate a pony's true talents, and help them realize that their real achievements are often worth more than the ones they make up."_


	12. (Weiss Report) Believe It! [Shadow Clone]

Entry Number Twenty-Four, Day Four-Hundred-Fifty-Nine

I'm the fucking hokage, go home Naruto. For a while, I thought I was wasting my time trying to clone myself with dark magic, I had this huge chamber ready and everything to blast apart whatever horrible doppelganger comes out of my horn, but instead, It goes off without a fucking problem. I'm so excited. One of the grand-daddy busted powers is now in my grasp, and all I had to do was tap into the all-encompassing self-loathing every human has.

Sure as shit not writing this one in the Grimoire Noir. The last thing I want is for anyone to use this puppy against me, or even worse, find out that I can even do it. I'll have to make a point of pretending like my shadow clones are real. Something that isn't that difficult, considering I can only make one of them, and I black out while I'm controlling it. This is also my first attempt at cobbling together a new spell from just theories and guesswork, too. I've been stumbling onto plenty of magic spells when I want something and feel strongly about it, but this is the first time I've managed to actually take the time to plan it out, decide what emotions I need, throw them in the blender and hit frappe.

You take your average everyday hate, turn it in on yourself, mix it with a healthy dose of arrogant self-assurance, a hint of fear, two quarts of raw directed adrenaline and there you go. It took me a while to work out the exact ratios to cast the spell for the first time. That careful balance between self-loathing and egotism is absolutely necessary to both create something that isn't you and become it, but also make it become like you and remain in your control, and without fear, you can't escape your body to inhabit it temporarily.

That fear is the key component, turning the spell from a clone that might share your thoughts, or might deviate and become a problem, into a spell whose purpose is that of a true proxy, a "you" which can perform tasks without endangering the real you. I wonder if the mirror pool works anything like this? Questions for later. I really don't feel comfortable going anywhere near that thing, whether it requires magic words or not.

A side effect of controlling a body made entirely of magic is it's mutability and regeneration. As long as I don't fuck up the spell, even massive injuries just turn the clone to smoke, and if I can ignore how painful that is, I can simply pull the clone back together afterwards. I can even pull the smoke together into other shapes, though they all come out the same color as the smoke if I do that. Really, the only flaw with this spell is the sheer magical drain it imparts to cast it. Right now, even just making one leaves me almost completely drained.

This is thankfully mitigated by the fact that the magic I spend still exists in the clone. It takes even more concentration, but so long as I can maintain the shadow clone spell at the same time, I'm still able to cast other spells from the clone itself using some weird empathetic multitasking that I'm positive a human brain wouldn't be capable of. Normally, I might be worried by the fact that, by all means, I don't even have a human mind anymore, and can now feel multiple chunks of emotions at once, but to be frank, this spell is just too much fun for me to worry about that right now.

I guess that's how Muave Magician Twirlight Sparkler is able to cast like six different spells at the same time, even if it boggles my mind the sort of impossible, insurmountable talent that must require.

Yet another reason to never let this spell become known to the public. If there exists a pony with even half her power, I'm pretty sure they could just take over the planet with this spell. Probably. I'm not exactly an expert on what you'd need to take over the planet, get off my ass.

The uses of this spell are both obvious and varied. The ability to no longer risk my personage during experimentation, to send proxies to hostile foes for negotiations, It's ability to change shape when reforming from it's shadow state, all of these come together to form one glaringly useful power. Already, I've managed to perform experiments that previously were locked off to me, including rudimentary experiments with Migratory Iron, a substance so dangerous that my R&D dudes have violently refused having anything to do with it thus far.

Tests on it's ability to change shape aren't quite as pleasing as I had hoped. Destructive testing indicates that the transformed states are only as strong as my own magical power and pain tolerance, spikes bend like nails, and metal is no stronger than my own skin. Even so, some of the more practical transformations are still usable, such as simplistic vehicles, tools not reliant on their durability, and of course, transformations which integrate other physical objects.

I've begun filling my shadow clones with Rupture Drops accordingly, forming a nasty surprise for those that manage to slay one. For my allies, I've simply told them that I have discovered a spell which can remove me from danger when a lethal blow is detected. Of course, even though this is vaguely untrue, I certainly plan on developing such an enchantment as soon as is reasonable. As far as I can tell, it's bringing my little ponies some comfort to know I'm not just going to drop dead in combat.

And of course, the taunting and pranking potential are legendary. I've already gotten three people with the old "Rat leaps out of a picnic basket" trick in the Cacophany Zone.

The looks on their faces when they realized it was a prank... Ahh, it gives me life.


	13. (Past Chapter 4): Greed is Good

The first dragon I met was awesome and terrific. It inspired awe and terror in equal measure.

"So my Millennium Golem is destroyed by your Dark Magician, since it has more attack points, and I take the difference between those two numbers in damage to my own life points," I explain, gesturing to the wafer thin sapphire cards that are spread out on the table, a small illusion floating above them of crude still-images of the monsters, powered by the special table I had commissioned for it.

The various fillies, colts and adults who were interested had already seen all of the fun parts of the game, and I went ahead and distributed the cards and rulebooks I made for the game and let them leave so I can dig into the more boring components of my plan.

Fair Cut, the pony I recruited for this, soaks in my words with careful thought. He had been skeptical at first when I was sent to him seeking math-performing enchanted crystals, and told him it was for a children's game instead of mercantile business, but when I began to explain my plans, his eyes slowly began to light up more and more. A game of math, rules, and citing obscure documentation? He was hooked. I had a feeling he would be when I saw that his cutie mark was a diamond cut into a number symbol.

Of course, and this was more of a secondary goal really, I was really probing his skill and the quality of his products. Apparently, the most common method of performing math automatically is with an enchanted tool called an "Amber Abacus". Naturally, I did my best to put the kibosh on that, and inquired if it were possible to make calculating enchantments which did not require moving parts to function, and perhaps could be integrated with other enchantments.

"I could, but that would mean a pony couldn't read it or put forward commands to it," Fair Cut says, explaining something that's obvious to him, but obviously a sign of untapped potential to me.

Scratching my chin as if I didn't already have a basic knowledge of user interfaces, I offered him a thought. "What if you used buttons instead?"

I wave my hoof through the glowing outline of a wizard jutting from the magically charged card to make it fizzle and pop. "Illusions of numbers and symbols that when touched, give commands. And those commands inform the crystal to display an illusion of its answer."

Fair Cut shakes their head like they've considered it before. "The "buttons"... Might work. But Illusion magic has its limits, each illusion has to be chosen beforehand, and can only appear and disappear. You would need over fifty crystals for every single symbol that the primary calculating crystal would display, each one enchanted with an illusion."

I smile. "What if the enchantment only had to display a single dot? Could it be made to display that dot in a particular place as commanded by the enchantment?"

He looks confused at this. "It should be possible, but what good would a dot do?"

I pull out a small book I had obtained to doodle in, and open it up to the first page, where I had been practicing my Equestrian writing, each symbol made by just poking the paper until the little ink blots shaped into the character. I begin to explain it to him, even as his eyes widen with realization at the sight of it. "A technique from my homeland. Pointillism, the act of using individual dots of pigment, which, when taken together, form an image." Thank you Bugs Bunny: Back in Action.

After he just stares at it with his mouth agape for an awkwardly long time, I decide it would be best to give my commands and take my leave. "I'll expect a working prototype for my Dual Monsters Calculator within the month. Feel free to inform me, your coworkers or your peers of this project if you require any help."

I had also made sure to write down an abridged rule-set for the game, and a few warnings about the dangers of an eternal format and not occasionally making rule changes for various cards. Though, I can't help but think Fair Cut might be a bit busy absorbing the fact that his work has just been revolutionized to worry about that for a while.

As I walk out of the room, Priss's pink tuft of mane sticks out of the crowd as she ceases mingling among her peers to accost me. "Where'd you even get the idea for a nerdy game like that?"

"A story from my homeland," I smile, and get my narrating voice ready for the group who looks interested at the answer as well, preparing to begin an abridged and ponyified version of a story I know by heart.

_"Legends say that long ago, when the pyramids were still young, ancient princesses played a game of great and terrible power. But these Shadow Games erupted into a war that threatened to destroy all of Equestria. Until a brave and powerful pharaoh locked the magic away, imprisoning it within the mystical Millennium Items..."_

* * *

Whittle stops me in the hall a few hours later as I walk out to the mine to see if any new materials have been discovered.

"You know, Weiss, when a pony tells me "You'll be making relics of untold power for me", I usually suspect them of wanting larger crystals, instead of smaller ones," She points out, walking alongside me.

I chuckle, stopping to turn an annoyingly large rock in the middle of the tunnel into smooth glass with a puff of black flame, so nobody trips over it later. "If anyone tells you that bigger is better, you'll know that they're a liar."

She raises an eyebrow. "Oh? Is that why your room is practically a padded crate with some shelves? You know ponies wouldn't mind if you asked for better accommodations."

I raise my own eyebrow at that. "Why the hell would I want a bigger room? We've got a perfectly good swimming area, so a personal bath wouldn't do me any good. Dark Magic makes my bed perfectly clean every night, so walking on it doesn't bother me, and anything that doesn't fit on my shelves belongs in storage or secure storage anyway, so someone else is organizing it."

I try to pick out why she's pointing that out, and test my theory. "If it's about appearances, I have a solid sapphire office for that."

An office which I absolutely adore. Though the solid sapphire chair isn't as comfortable as I thought it would be.

She shrugs. "As long as it's what you prefer. Some of us have some rather ordinary ideas about size equating with status, and yet our caped, jewel-armored "Leader" is eating rations and sleeping in a horseshoebox."

I wonder where she's going with this.

"If I can eat cheap tasty food and fit a comfy bed in a shoebox, I will. It's a sign of the highest quality to be able cut costs without sacrificing _necessary_ qualities. We just have different ideas about what's good."

Her smile grows at that, confusing me. "Well, I happen to like your ideas so far. You know... I couldn't get a straight word out of Fair Cut earlier, he was so excited. I'm a bit envious, to be frank."

I'm still chewing on her words when we reach the mine, but I feel the need to give some sort of assurance. "I may have some ideas. But they won't work until Fair Cut is done with my calculator."

Her confusion is gratifying. "How is a calculator going to help me with carving crystal?"

"Simple. I'll teach it how." I grin, trotting off and leaving her no more enlightened than she was before.

* * *

As I barrel down the minecart tracks to the second cell of our collective home about a mile away trapped inside a pitch black box, I find that I can't stop screaming.

Oh Christ I'm going to die.

As the covered minecart slows down far too slowly for my tastes, I regret my decision to have the architects design it to move as fast as is possible while remaining safe.

I finally stumble out of the cart, smashing my nose into the floor while a pair of strong looking ponies drag the cart around and up the ramp to bring it high enough for gravity to take it back to the first cell again. At the same time, I try desperately not to think too hard about the fact that that entire tunnel is rigged to collapse if a cell is exposed. It isn't until I reach our primary gem mine that my legs stop shaking and I regain some semblance of coherent, not-prey-animal thought. I brush myself off, sear my armor clean, and walk in like I own the place.

The first thing I notice is how there are several massive veins of crystal that are completely untouched. In fact, it's one particular kind of crystal I don't recognize on sight, a vague, grey-blue crystal that both glows, and is paired alongside other, less scintilating crystals of other shades and tints. Every once in a while, I spot one of the crystals change color.

I hail one of the miners who had been heading out and question them. "Hey, you, mind if I ask what these are? Looks like the miners are ignoring them."

The gangly mare gives me a goofy grin. "Aww, those'r just Againtes, boss says don't mine em up 'er take em outta the mine 'er it can make things go funny."

That... didn't help as much as I had hoped. But it is sufficient to quell my curiosity for now. I dismiss the mare. "Thank you for the help. Have a nice day."

She broadly nods with a toothy smile and walks off to do whatever it is Crystal Ponies do after their shift.

I continue further into the mine, where Captain Iron Diamond is there for some reason, talking to Foreman Fair Shake.

I let them conclude their business about more diamonds being needed for spearheads, before I talk to Fair Shake myself.

"Greetings, Shakes. What's new?" I ask him, cutting straight to the point.

He scratches his chin "You know, asking for weird magic gems doesn't really give me a lot to work off of. But we did find a vein of orichalcum, if that helps."

I'm a bit stunned at hearing that that exists here, but shrug it off. "Is it a durable, magical metal of extreme rarity?" I question.

He looks confused at that. "It's not that durable or rare, but it is pretty magical. It holds enchantments like nobody's business."

If joy were heat, my smile could probably melt that metal right now. "Good work. Pass it on to any ponies that can refine it, and keep me up to date on any further developments like that."

The rest of our discussion details the amount and quality of the metal, and the other assorted gems they had been digging up.

* * *

"So what's with the drawing?" Priss says, startling me from my writing as I snap the Grimoire Weiss shut.

I respond hastily. "You don't need to be looking too deeply into that tome, Priss. It's a good thing you can't read it, the knowledge entombed there is not for pony eyes."

Her eyebrows ascend at the revelation I just imparted on her puny, uninitiated mind. "So what was with the crab drawing?"

I bristle at that. "It's not a crab, they are blueprints I've been working on for the Heavy Lobster, when it's done, it'll be a giant monster of metal and magic!"

She doesn't look suitably impressed. "So it's your dumb idea book?"

I nod at that. "Exactly. It's called the Dumb Idea Book because Dumb ponies could never think of Ideas like the ones in here."

She deadpans. "So it takes a genius to think of metal crabs?"

I huff indignantly "Well if you're just here to critique ideas that, yes, require a genius like me to think of, then the door is over there." I point to the empty doorway, throwing my nose in the air with an aristocratic snort.

Priss giggles. "Sure thing Genius Noir, I'm just here to tell you my friends want more of those nerdy math cards."

I nod in response. "I'll work on it. And it's "Mr. Genius Noir", thank you very much."

* * *

Sombra grins down from his throne at the beast he had just finished capturing. Mind control wouldn't work of course, with its mind so filled with powerful emotion.

But bribery... Well, it's a novel concept, but he's willing to try anything once.

He talks as though he were speaking to an associate instead of a violent monster. "I need you to do me a small favor. There's been some... Rats. Scurrying about my kingdom. I want you to sniff out their surely jewel-encrusted nest, and... Do what comes naturally to your kind."

"They are somehow hiding from my sight somewhere in the frozen wastelands around my empire. Something I wish remedied."

"I'll free you, of course, and then, if you bring me their leader, I'll pay you generously myself. And of course, I'll overlook this whole..." He waves his hoof dismissively.

"Nasty business you attempted," He finishes, smiling affably.

The monster shifts under the black chains, smoke snorting from its nostrils. Its steel grin voices its agreement well enough.

* * *

As I drag over a cart of garbage to dump in the hate fire pit and infuse it with more of my magic, I see that ponies have formed another venting circle to rant at one another about their woes, like they have been every other day that I come over to renew it.

As I dump the garbage into the fire and prepare to ignite my horn, I can't help but notice that, for some reason, the fire hasn't dimmed as much as I thought it would. Which is to say, it's been burning just as strongly as it was when I left.

I feel like questioning this incredibly bizarre occurrence, but before I can, I immediately feel a white-hot burst of violently angry avarice. The telltale sign that one of my Royal Crystals has been damaged or broken. This can only mean one of two things. Either someone's in for the reprimanding of their life...

Or the A-class emergency alarm has been triggered.

I gallop towards the Railway for news as fast as I can, arriving just as a cart is sliding in at the emergency speed from Cell Two, confirming my fears.

Captain Iron Diamond steps out and turns to me with urgency in his tone. "Dragon Attack at the entrance, I'm gathering soldiers. Hurry."

With his message delivered, he stomps off with intent to fend off this attack.

I get in the cart, inform the rail manager to activate emergency speed for all carts going out, and grow my thin and pleasant-looking ceremonial armor into a thicker, fully covering form as I burn my cape away to nothing and silently tolerate the mind-numbing speed.

* * *

"Hey come on little ponies, let me in, I won't hurt you too bad! I just want your dumb leader, and all your gems!" The dragon roars as he worms his green, scaly arm around inside the entrance, trying to fish out ponies while widening the entrance hole.

As I see the offending limb swat away one of my guards, I'm filled with fury.

"Everypony, stand back. Guards, prepare the killcapture room and remove any ponies between here and there," My voice is altered by the face-covering mask of my helmet as I speak.

When the guards are all back as far away as possible behind me, I ignite my horn and shoot a small, but violently hateful fireball at the dragon's arm, where it crashes into its claw, singeing it slightly before the dragon snuffs it out by balling their fist.

"Oh that's cute, little ponies think they know fire. Let old Redhot show you how it's done," They grumble, before a loud inhale leaves me and the others no time to evacuate the tunnel.

With a rapid burst of magic, I summon up as many layers of Royal Cloth as I can, and blow a hole in the ceiling between me and the entrance, attempting to redirect the fire, and, if that fails, insulate my guards from the worst of it with a foam of graphene and air.

I barely remember the next few moments after that, as I apparently blacked out for a brief few seconds.

I just remember seeing the dragonfire, and sensing the endless tide of overwhelming greed that filled it as it blasted me back and erased huge chunks of my armor.

I snapped out of it when I heard the dragon's laughter. "Did I enlighten any of you down there? I hope I didn't get you _too_ badly now."

My anger returns with contemptuous ease, and I prepare to use my Royal Crystal Growth to attempt what Sombra's crystals could not.

Greed, as an emotion, is perfectly capable of causing harm to one's enemies.

The paste-smeared spear of purple crystal that erupts from my helmet is more than sufficient to pierce the dragon's nose when it pokes it into the hole while trying to worm its way in, and its screams of anger are all-too gratifying as I break the crystal off of my helmet so I can move freely again.

"Oh you're going to get it now, you little ponies," They roar again, slightly more nasally, gripping the hole with both claws and beginning to rip their way through it to get inside.

Thank goodness. I was worried it would just keep harassing the entrance.

I shout out to the dragon. "Well come on, Rednose, and bring your new piercing with you, I'll give you a few matching ones!"

Oh yeah, that definitely pissed him off.

Me and my guards are forced to constantly duck into divots in the wall as the dragon periodically erupts into ranting and dragonfire, and Corporal Fair Cop is forced to grab my hoof when I found myself reaching towards the greed-dense fire like some sort of curious child.

Before long, we've all managed to taunt and bait the dragon into a massive chamber, and I ignite all the bright torches to discourage the dragon trying to make its own light.

"Welcome, Tomatoface, to my Boss Room," I smile inside my mask as the dragon looks confused.

Around the room is one stone path in or out of the room, and a grid of large stone tiles are embedded in the ceiling, with hollow holes at their corners. The circular center platform of the room is surrounded by wide pools of freezing cold water, with the clear glow of crystals embedded into the walls of the pool lighting it up, and crystal torches embedded in the walls giving the room a large amount of bright light. Water pours into the pools from fountains up above, from holes carved to look like flattened, ape-like skulls.

One, less significant detail is the abundance of slits in the walls, though their exact purpose isn't immediately apparent.

"Wait, you're just going to fight me dragon-to-pony?" Redhot says incredulously when they notice the utter lack of guards and escape route in the room, before laughing loudly.

"I would almost respect that if it weren't so _stupid_!"

I just shrug in my armor. "Then step forward, and I'll teach you respect."

This more than manages to piss them off, and when they step fully onto the central platform, the walkway that connected it to the entrance drops into the floor as the archway leading in slams shut with a giant crystal skull door. As the walkway sinks into the water, a curious layer of frost gathers on it, spikes of crystalline ice growing a small distance out before stopping as it nears the glow of the magic gems embedded in the moat's walls.

The dragon just smirks at this, and looks down at me. "I hope you don't think a fancy room is going to scare me off or something. I'm going to toast you, and then I'll take you to that dumb spooky pony, and then I'll get so many gems!" They salivate.

The mention of a "Dumb Spooky Pony" offering them anything for me gives me pause, before I shake my head internally and remember the plan.

I take a step back, and look up to make sure I'm directly under one of the blue stone tiles in the ceiling, as opposed to the grey ones that checkerboard the roof around them.

"Then come on, show me you've got what it takes to defeat the Shadow Realm's Final Boss," I say, the name slipping out unintentionally as I try to come up with something intimidating to say.

The dragon takes a confident step forward, unafraid of my threats. This prompts me to quickly and loudly shout "C-B Twenty-One!"

The dragon's confusion turns to pain when a grey stone pillar drops down from the ceiling, pinning its claw to the floor with over a ton of reinforced stone.

As it thrashes to free itself, I take a step forward, ready to dodge if it attempts to use fire on me.

"You can still surrender, Redhot. You won't be harmed further if you do."

"Oh I'm sure as chip not doing that," They growl, yanking their claw free as the pillar snaps the rest of the way to the ground with a groaning crash.

I step back into the safe zone and shout again. "Drop em all!"

Redhot's eyes widen as, of the checkerboard of tiles embedded in the ceiling, every single grey one begins to drop down one after the other, forcing them to dodge, smash, and in one case, even melt a pillar before it can bury them in the stone traps.

Their confidence returns when they see me avoiding certain spots on the ground and constantly looking up at the roof, and makes the connection between Blue Tiles on the ceiling and safe zones from the pillars.

They continue to dodge, even as they gaze over to where, over the blue pools of water and past them, there are nothing but blue tiles.

"I've figured out your little game, dumb pony, I just have to go over there and your dumb trick stops working!" They point to the water.

I school my emotions and shout confidently. "You could, but I know for a fact that dragons shouldn't be able to swim!" I technically tell the truth.

The dragon's smile proves to me without a shadow of a doubt that they've taken my bait. "Watch me!" they claim, leaping into the water and doggy paddling over to the flooring on the other side.

"Careful!" I warn.

"The water's a bit nippy!"

It's at exactly this moment that Redhot realizes what I'm implying, as icy crystals begin to form around its limbs, the buoyant frost crawling up their body until they're completely immobilized, an iceberg with half a dragon poking out bobbing gently on the water as they thrash and struggle.

"What the frack, what is this!?" They roar, trying to use dragonfire to melt the ice, but failing as their neck is locked in place by purple crystals thrust up from the ice by me as I trot over the frozen water to them. It really doesn't help when I also make sure to muzzle them with my next set of crystals, clamping their jaws shut.

"Just a tiny bit of science, and a whole lot of magic," I state, standing next to them on the frozen floor.

"Those magic gems down there suppress crystal growth. This whole pond is already cold enough to freeze, but until someone falls in, it just... Can't quite manage it."

"To be honest, I didn't have too many more ideas to stop you after this one. I had some holes in the ceiling rigged to spray freezing water everywhere, a few vents in the floor rigged with noxious gas. And if all else failed, I had some ponies watching the fight in the other room, who would try to use Rupture Drops to fuse some rubble together around you if the fight drew on for too long," I state simply.

"I shouldn't be surprised that the hatefire didn't manage to take properly on you, and your mass meant that I didn't put nearly enough intoxicants in your body when I fired that spear at your nose. It did slow you down a lot though, I noticed."

I shrug.

"Anyway, you're going to go to sleep now. And when you wake up, we'll have a little talk about what happens to dragons that know too much about The Shadow Realm."

The dragon's increased panic allows it to, very impressively, I might add, crack several of the crystals holding it as I draw out a hoofful of sugar and royal crystal.

With what little remains of my magical energy, I grow them together into a thick purple spike that I jab into the dragon's side, underneath the hardened scales.

* * *

"The Shadow Realm, really?" Priss snarks as I limp to the medical chambers.

I have the privilege of hiding my embarrassment behind my armor. "Shush, I was doing a bit. Please tell me none of the others in the viewing loft heard that."

She giggles. "Oh it's much worse than that. Everypony's running with it. Pinprick told me his dad said the guards are thinking about calling themselves the Shadow Guard now."

My mortification, I can only hope, is hidden extremely well by what remains of my armor. Priss's continued giggling fails to assure me of that notion.


	14. (Noir Report) An Aside on Dragonfire

Entry #4, Day 23

While I hold disdain for the only dragon I have met thus far, their behavior has inspired a true respect and fondness for their race. The idea that any creature, living or dead, could experience such depths to their greed is phenomenal. If there existed any pony who could create dragonfire through magic, I would fear them. The amount of greed required to summon up the flames that a dragon wields trivially, I am certain would leave a pony a drooling vegetable on the ground from it's intensity. Despite this, I know there exist dragons that can converse, that can reason, even as from their mind's deepest depths to it's shallowest shores, greed can well up and saturate them.

While I'm uncertain that it is possible to harness dragonfire myself, studying it has given me new insights into the nature of dark magic, and indeed, these revelations may be key in improving other aspects of my magic.

The first and most important thing I have learned from my studies, is the fact that when magic performs, emotion amplifies. Even one's dying gasp could be turned into a veritable storm of magic, if sufficient emotion were present to amplify it. Dark Magic is able to manufacture emotions sufficient to begin casting a spell, but until now, I was unaware of the distinction between a spell's true power, and merely the power it achieves from magical expenditure. This excess emotion amplifying the power of a spell is something that Dark Magic cannot achieve on it's own, and even the blackest of spells can be thrown to greater heights by invoking true, pure emotions from it's caster.

This helps properly explain the problems I once experienced during the casting of spells in strenuous circumstances, my hatred for Sombra, when pulled forth, had made my magic briefly flare out of control once upon a time, turning the small black candle-light I had held into a roaring fire. At the time, I assumed it was due to my feelings impacting my focus, and a lack of control making me spill more energy than I had intended. I know now, however, that the true cause was my magic itself being amplified. Learning to harness and control this will be crucial if I am to gain mastery of magic.

One thing worth mentioning as I conclude my study into dragonfire, is that battling the dragon offered me the opportunity to prove a theory I had held earlier. I now know without a doubt that Royal Crystal Growth is capable of enacting harm on living things. Something which SC3 is extraordinarily difficult to wrench into doing. The power of avariciousness isn't dissuaded so easily from attacking a foe with potentially lethal attacks.

With that said, I now have much more to explore from the Royal Crystal Growth spell. Much, much more.

First and foremost, by using it alongside Black Flames, one can rapidly cause damage to physical structures, igniting them with the flames, and attacking the now weakened object with a nightmarish porcupine of crystal needles which can break through the object and compromise it's structure. By growing crystals from their base instead of their tip, and with a focus on durability and small size rather than sharpness and mass, one can drive spears of the material through many lesser forms of armor, including thinner portions of dragon skin. I'm not sure dragon skin is especially durable, but considering it resisted Black Flames, I deem Royal Crystal Growth a perfectly serviceable combat spell even if only for it's use in rapidly unleashing an attack at medium to close range.

Slower, but no less useful applications of the spell begin to shine through when it is used in a very particular way on existing crystals. By growing Royal Crystal inside of a normal crystal, instead of on it, the tension inside the gem can be increased until it is shattered. Furthermore, by combining Black Flames, Royal Crystals and the patience and assistance of professionals, blades can be crafted whose edges are of a terrifying sharpness.

And of course, among all things dangerous, there is none more dear to my heart than the classic and beloved tactic of simply dropping a weighty object onto a foe. Something which Royal Crystals are able to fulfill. I admit, there's no small irony in the fact that if I attempted to use SC3 around falling rubble, it would likely drive me to save my foe instead of finish them off. Perhaps that thought should be explored to deeper depths. One cannot wrench control over others without living, healthy individuals. Shouldn't that therefore indicate that SC3 could be turned into a spell of healing and defense? Something which protects one's subordinates.

But that will be testing consigned to another entry, for now.

One thing worth mentioning, there are other, even deadlier uses for this spell, ones which I dare not record here. If whomsoever reads this tome were to discover those uses on their own, I pray that you never allow them to come to light. Horde that knowledge jealously, and let it perish with it's owner.

I have also discovered flaws to this spell, ones which may leave it's user indisposed. Most important of which is the fondness one invariably develops for the things they create with it. I've found myself unable to bring myself to use superior products for my own armor if I can instead produce acceptable armor myself. The pride and enjoyment I've found in creating things from nothing but my mind and my magic is one that I am familiar with, but I feel may be unduly amplified by the sensations of intense greed and arrogance I experience during the casting of the spell.

There is a satisfaction that emerges in a pony which blends so well with the greed that Royal Crystal Growth invokes, and where Greed, Pride and Enjoyment intersect, one cannot help but adore the works that their own selves have wrought, even if objectively, they have not produced the most superior examples of a given thing.


	15. (Present Chapter 4): Painful Reminders

Weiss trots up to the small Priss, who had been standing in the town square next to the Kingdom Heart, ruffling her pink colored mane with one of his draconic claws as he stared into the glittering black pyroclasm, feeling warmth from it.

'The Crystal Heart must be crying it's eyes out knowing it will never be as warm as this.' Weiss thinks to himself.

"Hey, come on Mister Noir, I just got finished combing that!" She complains, trying to squirm away from his mussing up her mane.

He laughs, and ruffles it a bit more. "And now you have the privilege of doing so again. You really should be thanking me."

She pouts, standing eye to eye with Weiss. "You're just jealous because under that burning wig you call a mane, you've been reduced to a chrome dome Weiss."

Weiss glares. "It's still hair, it's just all flamey. Your hair is flamey too, you know."

And indeed, Priss's mane is a mass of cherry-red fire as well, only a few shades richer than her coat.

"And it's the finest flame in the Shadow Realm, thank you very much, Lord Weiss. Way better than Eclipse Flash's," She says with a stomp of her armored hoof.

Weiss just laughs some more. His laughter continues, even as Luna finishes walking up behind him.

Eventually, Weiss's laughter ends, leaving his tired face fighting a rictus that threatens to overtake his small, hollow smirk.

"What a cruel dream," He states.

Luna doesn't respond as the silhouettes of ponies walking around fade away, and the black conflagration in the town square dims into nothing, leaving the area barren and aged into unrecognizability.

Weiss speaks up again, conversationally, as he walks over to the stone benches surrounding the long-dead fire and takes a seat. "You know Luna, I once had a dream just like this."

"In that dream, I saw a land of ice and snow, and then, that land was filled with ponies. Friends, families, an entire kingdom!"

"But verily, it be the nature of dreams to end," he quotes.

"And when I awoke, only the memory of that dream remained."

Luna continues her taciturn staring, before walking over to sit next to him.

She speaks up. "I've come to ask why you're acting this way. I've heard word from Ponyville. You've been... Provoking ponies. Threatening them," She says, pausing before she finishes. "Frightening them."

Weiss's posture doesn't change, but by this point, they look dead, put plainly and simply.

"I took on a lot of responsibilities back then, you know. There were a lot of ponies I had to become. I didn't really enjoy them at first, but they all felt right in the end."

He waves at the barren caverns.

"Hence nothing remains, except for our regrets."

He pauses for a few moments, recollecting his emotions into their little box, before continuing as though talking about the weather.

"A long time ago, your sister asked me how the two of you could let an evil like me continue to rule over ponies, no matter how well I cared for their needs."

"Playing off your fears for the future, I told you that I could be your rival. The practice villain that keeps your skills sharp and your armories full for the real deal."

"Weiss Noir, the Symbol of Evil," Weiss says dramatically.

He holds his arms out wide, looking sideways at the princess. "Well... I am here."

"I'll put your heroes to the test. I'll dangle prizes in front of them, and I'll roar in anger when they slyly snatch them from my jaws."

"I'll make a nuisance of myself potent enough that ponies throw aside their petty differences to stand against me."

"I'll find the ponies that are teetering on the edge, and I'll scare them so badly they leap the other way."

"But more importantly, I'm going to make preparations for Sombra's return."

"And then I'm going to murder him."

Luna looks torn at the brutally frank statement. "You don't have to do this to yourself Weiss. Let us help you."

She tries again. "Please let me help you."

Weiss laughs. An empty noise, vacant of emotion. "Oh imagine the newspapers. "Luna and Weiss join forces, return of The Nightmare?"."

His face returns to it's stony stillness. "No. I'm afraid this isn't a job I require help doing. It's a penance for the one pony who did the crime."

Luna is incensed by this. "Weiss, thou are not responsible for what Sombra claimed he had done. There is no way thou could have known, and there was nothing thou could have done!"

Weiss just shakes his head. "Luna, from the moment I met Sombra, the blame for his every action rested squarely on my shoulders."

"We cannot allow thee to continue tormenting our ponies," Luna states firmly.

At this, Weiss begins to laugh, louder and louder, as his watery eyes obtain a mad glow. "Then stop me!"

His insane laughter only turns mournful by the very slightest amount as the dream ends.

* * *

"So, yeah, uhh..." Gilda scratches her neck.

"I kinda suck at this, but I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm really sorry I yelled at you last time I was in Ponyville."

Fluttershy doesn't make eye contact, and just scuffs the ground awkwardly.

Gilda is confused at this. "Uhh, so anything to say to that?"

Fluttershy murmurs something unintelligibly quiet.

"I didn't hear that, could you speak up a bit?" Gilda asks as nicely as she can, trying to remember how politeness works.

Fluttershy mumbles something that almost sounds like a couple of words strung together, if one squinted their ears really hard.

Gilda tries her hardest to not get even the slightest bit annoyed with this. "So do you accept my apology or don't you?"

Fluttershy looks up, and finally speaks loud enough to hear. "I-"

"Um, there's smoke..!" She points up behind Gilda.

Gilda, looking around, spots the huge cloud of smog as well. "Holy shed!" Gilda curses.

Apologies and their acceptance or lack thereof ignored for now, the pair make their way to town to warn the ponies of the danger.

When they arrive, Fluttershy tries to warn everyone about the smoke, but her demure manner of speaking, and Rainbow Dash loudly bouncing a ball around muffle her warnings too much. Gilda, seeing this, takes a deep breath and decides to give it the old Junior Speedsters try.

"Hey! Punks! There's a bunch of flocking smoke everywhere up there, you aught to act like it!" Gilda bellows, before cringing when she sees Fluttershy paralyzed with fear.

'Oh way to go Gilda.' She thinks to herself, vowing to avoid shouting near the buttery pegasus.

Twilight gallops up with Spike in tow after Gilda's shout, looking over the shocked ponies who are now looking up to the sooty clouds.

"She's right everypony! But don't worry, I've received a letter from the princess, and it isn't coming from a fire."

"It's coming from a dragon."

The ponies all gasp, shocked and afraid.

Fluttershy is snapped out of her own frozen state by Twilight's words, shouting quietly. "A Dragon..?!"

* * *

When Twilight gathers the rest of her friends to the Treebrairy and explains the situation, Applejack is the first to break her silence in the name of putting forth hard-hitting and seriously worded questions.

"So what in the name of all things chocolate dipped is a full-grown dragon doin' in Equestria?" Applejack asks.

Twilight answers Applejack's question with a question-inducing answer of her own. "Sleeping."

This evokes questioning noises from everyone there, forcing Twilight to elaborate further.

"According to Princess Celestia's letter, the dragon's snoring is the cause of all this smoke."

Gilda smirks when she throws her own two bits in. "And here I thought Rainbow picked bad spots to nap in."

Pinkie scrunches up her face. "He should probably see a doctor about that smoke, I don't think that's healthy."

"Well, at least they aren't snoring fire," Rarity responds to Pinkie's non-sequitur.

"So what's the plan, then?" Rainbow Dash finally pipes up.

"Are we going to have to give him the boot? Like that! And that!" Dash shouts, kicking and punching in the air before having to be caught before she hits a bookshelf head-on by mistake.

Twilight says with some exasperation. "We need to encourage him to take his nap somewhere else. Celestia has given us our mission, and if we fail, Equestria will be drowned in smoke for the next hundred years!"

As everyone nods and Twilight belts out orders for everyone to prepare for the coming trip, Gilda is the only one who notices Fluttershy trying to say something.

"You got something to say?" Gilda questions, trying to avoid accidentally spooking the pegasus. Naturally, this makes Fluttershy clam up completely, shaking her head rapidly.

Gilda looks exceedingly disappointed at her reaction, but tries to hide it under some poise and determination. "Then I'm going to go get ready."

* * *

Unknowing of the problem occurring outside, Trixie quietly sips at her drink that she ordered from the Shakee Shoppe, pondering how things have changed so rapidly and, might she say, horribly, in her life.

'As nice as everypony has been, helping Trixie get back on her hooves, I'm still bitless and homeless. I just don't get how this town even humored my act with a unicorn like Twilight here...' she thinks to herself, flashing back to that fateful moment when Twilight demonstrated magical power beyond comprehension.

Though she didn't want to admit it at the time, Weiss's offer was almost painful in how tempting it was, especially when she received it so soon after having seen that.

Trixie tries to bury the thoughts under another slurp of smoothy, thinking about it doesn't solve anything. It especially doesn't solve anything for Trixie to think about how she'll never even come close to having magic power like that.

"Ugh, why couldn't Trixie's wagon have broken down in Baltimare instead," She groans into the table.

'Because if it broke down _there_ , you'd be out on the street instead of in a nice inn apparently paid for by the crown, drinking smoothies that were apparently "on the house",' Her thoughts traitorously point out.

It's downright bizarre to her how generous and kind the townsfolk here have been, and it doesn't at all help her mood steadily deteriorating as it had been over the past week.

And then there's the elephant in the room. The ominous black tower that rose out of the Everfree the same day she arrived. The abode of that dark wizard.

When Trixie questioned the bookish librarian about them, she found herself nearly buried in tomes on the historic villain, which had to be culled down to one tome in particular that managed to quench her curiosity, and doused ice water on the idea of going to them for any help, or indeed, any reason at all.

"Know-Our Vice", as the book referred to the pony, was the evil ruler of an ancient citadel, famous for both his ironic punishments towards criminals, and his ironic gifts for those that displeased him. The most famous example being the Equestrian Spy that he granted the toggle-able power of invisibility when they were caught, with no strings attached. They had enjoyed themselves with the power so much after being sent home that they were eventually caught and tried for spying in Equestria itself, unable to resist the temptation to abuse their new ability.

The hallmark of the villain's rule was their twisted adherence to harmony. Tempting ponies with generous gifts, kind actions and mercy to defeated enemies that often infuriated them, speaking honestly when they knew others would not believe him, or would willfully misinterpret his words, a loyalty to his minions that bordered on pathological, and above all else, a bizarre and all-encompassing sense of humor.

Trixie assumed after reading that book that Weiss's offer was genuine, but would somehow leave her miserable if she took it.

But sweet Celestia, why was it still so tempting?

Well, that's a dumb question. It's tempting because Trixie can't stop thinking about just how she is neither Great nor Powerful compared to the humble unicorn that probably saved her life from that Ursa.

* * *

The loud snore of a dragon halts Twilight and the others.

"What the hay?" Applejack comments as the ground rumbles.

"Well, looks like that's what a dragon snoring sounds like," Twilight comments.

Fluttershy, after regaining her senses, looks up at the mountain with mounting trepidation.

"That's... Really high up," She says, prompting Rainbow Dash to snort slightly.

"Yeah, mountains tend to be like that," Dash responds.

She then continues. "I'm going to fly up there and check it out!"

Before Dash can live up to her namesake and dash off, Applejack points out something important.

"Hold on, now. I think we should all go up together. Safety in numbers and all that."

Her words drag Rainbow back down to the rest of the group with a grumble.

Rarity speaks up with a point of small talk to make. "I hear the only thing more alluring than the luster of a dragon's scales are the beauty of the gems they use in their nests. If I play my cards right, perhaps I could even convince him to part with a few..."

Gilda's eyebrow raises, prompting her to interject. "That sounds like a really bad idea. I've never heard of a dragon reacting well to someone messing with it's loot. I know I wouldn't react well to it."

Pinkie follows up on that with a faux roar. "Rawr! Want a diamond Rarity? Well too bad, they're mine!" She roars.

All the girls in the group laugh at this except for Twilight.

"Girls, this is no laughing matter! Fluttershy, you're the expert on wild creatures. How do you think the dragon will behave?" Twilight asks the distinctly Fluttershy-lacking space behind her, before seeing Fluttershy still at the bottom of the mountain.

Rainbow reacts to the sight predictably. "Hey, what's the holdup Fluttershy?"

Pinkie takes this opportunity to have a baclava and a fake pistol that they fire off into the air. "Did somepony say holdup?"

Fluttershy scuffs the ground shyly. "It's... really steep."

Rainbow retorts readily. "Yeah, mountains tend to be like that too. You could just fly up here, you know?"

Fluttershy works up her nerves and nods, but when the dragon's snoring startles her, her wings snap shut and she falls back to the ground.

When Applejack starts climbing back down, Twilight takes the opportunity to interject. "We don't have time for this, what are you doing, Applejack?"

"I'll take her around the mountain another way," The farmer says plainly.

At this, Gilda is flooded with impatience. 'Come on Gilda, keep it together.' She grits her teeth at the delay.

"Wait, wait. I could just carry her up, it would be faster," Gilda slowly forces out as she calms herself.

Twilight nods happily as Gilda softly grabs the pegasus and hefts her up into the air with powerful flaps. "That's a great idea Gilda, we'll be right back on track if you do that."

Fluttershy is too overwhelmed with fear to complain as they make their way further up the mountain.

* * *

Weiss awakens from his slumber, rising up from the black pit in the room's center to reform his body and steel his mind for the day.

"Six heroes, and only two Weapons of Light. Well... That just won't do. Not at all."

He hums to himself.

"Until I can find a rube willing to scour every pawn shop in Equestria for the Alicorn Amulet, that particular line of research is lost to me. But maybe... Maybe I should simply source my goods more... _locally_."

With a malicious chuckle, he descends the stairs of his tower, into the castle ruins he grew it from.

"Oh what was it called again? Visionation Augmentation? No, it wasn't that."

His self-aimed mumbles follow him as he slowly scours the castle of the pony sisters from top to bottom for a very particular book.

* * *

Before too long, the girls manage to all make it up a good portion of the mountain, coming face to face with a gap in the path, a long fall between two nearby cliffs.

Where the others are all able to leap across trivially, Fluttershy is left behind, unable to work up the courage to make the leap.

Twilight gently points this out. "Alright Fluttershy, it's your turn now."

Fluttershy shudders, pupils dialating at the sight of the chasm. "But it's really... wide."

"You could just leap on over," Applejack claims.

"I don't know..." Fluttershy responds, before another snore from the dragon makes her jolt into the air briefly.

"I really don't know." She says again, shaking as she looks down.

At this point, Pinkie hops back over to Fluttershy's side. "Oh come on Fluttershy, it's just a hop skip and a jump!"

Gilda, preternaturally sensing Pinkie preparing to burst into song, interjects. "I could just carry her across like I did before."

Fluttershy, upon hearing her words, rapidly rambles quietly. "Oh, no there's no need for that, no need at all really, I'll just um-"

Fluttershy closes her eyes, and, driven by the idea of the alternative being another ride on the griffon express, leaps across the surprisingly small distance between the cliffs on her own.

Though Gilda manages to hide it much better this time, Fluttershy's fearful reaction at the idea of Gilda helping her sends a bitter pang through the griffon.

"Well, as long as you've got it handled." Gilda says, restraining herself with every iron band of willpower she can to keep from acting upset.

* * *

Meanwhile, and arguably parawhile, the flow of time itself briefly becomes convoluted, as out of the chronal fabric above Sweet Apple Acres, a large, bulbous machine slowly fades into existence. The machine is painted mostly yellow, with accents of green and blue. For whatever reason, the word "Hope!" is painted on the side in a way that seems almost ironic. It slowly lands in a clearing of the apple tree forest, and it's bulbous, slightly conical cockpit hisses open.

The heavily cloaked mare that stumbles out of it spots some of the apples, and, with nothing short of desperate and reckless abandon, runs over and uses some of their precious little energy to yank an apple free of it, stuffing it in their mouth with a sob as they eat as quickly as is safe for them. Feeling the agonizing hunger of their subjectively past week slowly abate, they pull down more apples and eat those at a slightly more sedate pace.

The unicorn's gaze slowly sweeps to the mountain in the distance, and the jewel of Equestria, the city of Canterlot affixed to it's side.

"Got to get to Celestia. Got to get to Canterlot," They rasp, throat soothed slightly by the juicy, ambrosial apples.

Time Machine ignored completely in their desperation, the yellow-coated mare pulls down her hood, stuffs it full of apples, and forces herself to begin walking the long route to the nearest train station.

* * *

Twilight slowly treads across a long stretch of trail, whispering to the others.

"According to the map, this entire area is an avalanch risk-zone, so be as quiet as you can manage, alright?"

Everyone but Fluttershy nods. The excluded mare looks terrified, and opens her mouth, before a panicked look from everyone makes her pause, and making eye contact with Gilda causes her to snap her mouth shut as fast as possible. Strangely (and frighteningly), this reaction doesn't make Gilda look any happier.

They slowly tread past the area, and finally make it to the dragon's lair.

What goes unaware to them is the dragon in question detecting their scent. Six ponies don't warrent the slightest concern, but as they near, his nostrils detect the stench of griffon feathers.

And a griffon with greed in mind is a great concern indeed.

Twilight nods as they stand in front of the cavern's mouth. "Ok, everypony, here's the plan, Gilda and Rainbow, you two will clear the smoke clouds," She says, making the duo nod.

"Pinkie Pie and Rarity, you'll create a distraction to divert the dragon if things get dangerous in there," She continues, making the second duo nod as well, Pinkie Pie blowing a party horn at the same time.

"Applejack, you're ready with the apples in case he decides to attack, but it shouldn't come to that," Applejack nods as well, throwing an apple and catching it with determination.

"Fluttershy, your job is to wake him up safely so we can open a dialogue... Fluttershy?" The pegasus being questioned shakes her head, her legs locked in place.

Fluttershy starts. "I-"

"I can't go in the cave."

Rainbow Dash raises an eyebrow. "So what's the problem? I think we've got some torches if it's the dark that's bothering you."

Fluttershy shakes her head. "I'm not scared of the dark... I'm scared of..." she trails off into an inaudible mumble, before being startled by the dragon snoring fitfully.

After some prompting from the others, she finally spits it out. "I'm scared of dragons."

A small shifting occurs inside the cave.

Twilight interrogates. "But Fluttershy, you've always been talented dealing with wild animals, what's the issue here?"

"That's because those animals aren't dragons," She shakes her head.

The shifting increases, and the tinkling of treasure rings out in the distance.

Rainbow Dash interjects, a bit shocked. "You dealt with that manticore like it was nothing, though?"

"That's because that manticore wasn't a _dragon_ ," Fluttershy nods.

Small thumps begin to approach, but go unnoticed by the others.

Pinkie Pie offers her own take on the matter. "Spike's a dragon, and you aren't scared of him!"

"Yes, because he's not a massive titanic horrific sharp-toothed fire-breathing smoke-snoring scale-armored long-horned could-eat-a-pony-in-a-single-bite _scarier-than-Gilda all-grown-up dragon!_ " Fluttershy shouts aloud.

**"And just what's so wrong with that?"** The dragon growls, arms crossed as they stand up behind Fluttershy, who was turned away talking to the group.

The group all look on with horrified expressions as the dragon takes another stomping step forward, while Fluttershy stumbles back away from it, whimpering, whispering and generally failing to say anything coherent.

"I- uh- w-" Fluttershy is completely paralized as the dragon snarls at her.

**"Well?"** They growl again.

Gilda, who had been watching with restraint and fear previously, slowly grows more and more incenced, but remains too worried about frightening Fluttershy even more to do anything about it.

When the dragon smirks at Fluttershy in a way that's painfully familiar to Gilda, her resolve snaps.

'Oh screw trying not to scare Fluttershy. This is way more important.' She thinks to herself, wings already flaring.

"Hey! You need to back off, bub!" Gilda roars, getting up in the dragon's face.

The dragon looks confused at this, it's just one griffon, purple glowing wings or not, so why are all their instincts screaming "Danger!"?

Mustering up some resistance, the dragon retorts. **"But she said mean things about me."**

"Yeah, when you scare ponies they're not going to act nice. It sucks, and you're just going to have to suck it up! Because you don't **get** to try and scare ponies just because you're mad. Even if they don't like you," Gilda snarls, magically enhanced killing-intent wafting off the incenced griffon.

The dragon takes a step back at this, teeth chattering, before Fluttershy flaps up between the two and interrupts the exchange with newfound bravery after watching Gilda's stand with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry for what I said, Mr. Dragon. I was just intimidated. I shouldn't have judged you before I got the chance to meet you, no matter how scared I was," Fluttershy says, patting the dragon on the nose.

"We're also sorry for interrupting your rest, but the reason we're here is because your nap is making a lot of smoke, and it's not good for the ponies that live here. Could you please pack your things, and maybe find somewhere else to finish your nap?" Fluttershy pleads.

The dragon looks sheepish at this.

**"Ok..."** They look down, before plodding off inside.

Fluttershy then turns to Gilda, pinning the now terrified griffon to the metaphorical wall like a metaphorical butterfly with her eyes.

"You shouldn't yell like that," Fluttershy says with a small, world-devouring glare, before her face softens.

"But thanks for sticking up for me."

Fluttershy looks shy in a suprisngly uncharacteristic manner for once. "I should have taken the time to get to know the real you before deciding if I was scared or not when you apologized, Gilda. It's obvious now that you've got my best interests in mind. Even if you are a little loud."

Gilda scratches her head and awkwardly chuckles. "I probably should have kept my head on straight the _first_ time we met. So... We even?" Gilda holds out a balled up talon.

Fluttershy hoofbumps Gilda's outstretched fist. "We're even."

* * *

_"Dear Princess Celestia,_

_I'm happy to report that the dragon has peacefully left our fair country, and it was all thanks to my two dear friends, Fluttershy and Gilda. The adventure taught me that you should never lose faith in your friends, and, more importantly, that being afraid can make you push away the ones that would be willing to help. During these times, overcoming your greatest fears is a task that can be truly surmounted with the help of someone willing to stand up for you."_

Twilight finishes, as Spike happily writes it all down, grateful for the break from dealing with Fluttershy's animal friends.

"Man, Twilight, they're acting totally different now!" Spike says, looking out at the window, where Fluttershy is discussing various birds of prey with a curious, but mostly laughing Gilda.

"Well, I suppose that's just what happens when somepony stares down an angry _dragon_ for you."

Spike shudders. "Remind me not to get angry at Gilda, then."

Twilight just laughs at that.

* * *

Weiss dumps everything in a treasure chest for aesthetic purposes.

"Ok, I've got the book, I've got the Heart's Desire resin, I've got the Stardust, I've got one of the branches The Tree dropped."

"Now I just need an alchemist to help put everything together." He finishes, staring down at the magical reagents with unabashed excitement.


	16. (Weiss Report) Time Travel Sucks [Time Machine]

Entry One-Hundred-Sixty-Five, Year Fifteen.

Let me go on record by saying I fucking hate time travel. It's super fucking spooky, and I'm so fucking positive that If I fuck with it too much, it's going to fuck back. And I really don't want to get fucked by time travel. That having been said, I've created a time machine. Now I know what you're thinking, but I'm not really a fan of prune juice, especially in a swimming pool. Jokes aside, I do have a good reason for this. Several in fact. Reason number one? I can. Reason number two, I wanted to. Reason number three...

Well, for a while, I was desperate enough to consider using one.

Now that it's finished, though, it remains firmly on the shelf. If there's one thing I've learned watching cartoons, it's this. "Time Travel is for Immortals and Fools." is an axiom I hold near and dear to my heart, and one I have no plans of putting to the test any time soon. But one thing I suppose is important is the fact that, now that I have a time machine, I can, at the very least, combat other time travelers. Like, say, ones who threaten to destroy time by using ancient time-warping spells to alter the past.

Yeah, see, I'm not a big fan of getting reset either. Ergo, instead of dismantling this time machine, I'm going to hold onto it, store it somewhere safe, and hope I never have to break the puppy out. Especially considering one simple fact. It's not really a very good time machine. My first attempts at using it for strictly testing purposes were... Less than stellar.

Test number one, which was unmanned, worked well enough, I would only send it forward, and then back, observing the results accordingly. This experiment showed that the machine's accuracy left a bit to be desired. Further tests only compounded that, culminating in me determining that every pound of weight in the time machine makes it more inaccurate with it's destination.

I was able to fix this problem with some carefully re-tuned Timeshift Crystals, but even then, the time traveler would have to make a judgement call, and choose to risk one of three things. Missing their intended location by a random portion, missing their intended time by a random portion... Or missing their intended timeline by a random portion. Yeah, see, that kind of answer would freak me out too.

After I got a report back indicating that my Time Machine, however briefly, had entered a parallel universe created through a DIFFERENT type of time travel, and that my own time machine was incapable of generating new timelines, I jerked my metaphorical hand back as though it were burned. So fucking spooky. I was tempted to destroy my time machine right there and then, but at the same time, realized that it was too late to shove the genie back in the bottle.

If there existed other versions of myself in parallel timelines, it would only take one of the time machines they made falling into the wrong hands to screw me over, even if I myself destroyed this one. Furthermore, the other me's would presumably also realize this, increasing the amount of total time machines. It would be a fucking Cell Situation all over again if I just assumed getting rid of _my_ time machine would get rid of _all_ of my time machines, and I'd be the Trunks who was dumb enough to assume so. So I'm back to Plan A. Shelve it until I need it.

That being said, I plan to consult a fortune teller next week, by asking her very specific questions about the future, I can determine a great many things about this timeline, and where it's headed. Namely, if it's a doomed timeline. Regardless of the results, I plan to use a mind-wipe on myself to remove the answers the fortune teller gives me from my memories, and use a timer to ensure that I spend exactly one hour asking her questions.

By combining these two things, and the Tree of Harmony subtly manipulating time on it's own, I should be able to "Synchronize" any alternate versions of myself, preventing the various timelines from deviating due to the answers I receive from the fortune teller. I also have a relic designed to cure the mind-wiping if certain conditions are met, which would allow me to immediately know which timeline I'm in, and make plans accordingly to preserve the prime timeline.

I really screwed the pooch on this one, but It's better than just being helpless if a threat comes using time as a medium of assault.

* * *

Entry One-Hundred-Sixty-Six, Year Fifteen.

One thing worth mentioning, the commissioning of this machine has also taught me a great deal about the potential of Timeshift Crystals. Possibly even more than the creation of the Master Sword afforded me. They really are quite the miraculous substance. Apparently nobody thought to tie time-manipulating magic to raw, grown crystals before. Their loss, I guess.

Like seriously, even though on their own, they can't actually generate new timelines, they ARE capable of... basically fulfilling all of one's time-related needs, including the preservation of certain types of paradox object, stabilizing the fabric of time within an area, and of course, the wide, wide range of methods that it can be put towards for manipulating time on a smaller, more manageable scale.

To that end, I've managed to create twenty five Timeshift Pendants, ten of which I stuffed in the time machine, just in case. Though again, hopefully it won't come to that, since even with a Timeshift Pendant, if a Paradox Object wants to cease existing, there's not a whole lot I can do. The existence of a paradox object that time wants gone will actually drain the energy from a Timeshift Pendant in an imperceptible way, which also means I've got no way of telling if something's going to poof until it suddenly does, and my crystal shatters.

It's actually super annoying. I really do hope someone figures out a better way to preserve paradox objects in the future, because this really isn't a workable method for doing the job.

If they did, I wouldn't have to worry _nearly_ as much about this dumb time travel bullshit.


	17. (Past Chapter 5): Genre Savvy

My first apprentice hates my guts. And to be frank, that also makes them my best one.

"Fuck!" I hiss as Doctor A.R Homeopathy pokes me with another crystal needle.

He frowns condescendingly. "Don't be such a baby. You weren't complaining when you walked in here covered in dragonfire burns, you really should be unconscious right now, after that."

I grit my teeth. "That's adrenaline for you. I didn't even realize I was hurt."

They shake their head. "Flaws of the pony adrenal system. Always making fools act like heroes. You are quite lucky that a guard had been here to cut that ridiculous armor off you."

I blush, and then hiss again when another needle pokes me. "I swear I designed that armor to come off."

Dr. Real just shakes their head again, before jabbing yet another needle into my aching side. "Then perhaps next time, you should design it to come off more easily. Or even better, not challenge a dragon in some meat-headed direct confrontation."

"Now hold still. If those crystals come out, we'll have to do this all over again. Injuries like yours are not something a pony easily recovers from."

I force myself to smirk. "Will I be able to play the piano anymore?"

"Yes? Your injuries will not inhibit the movement of your limbs, or your magic," The doctor responds with confusion.

"Well that's strange, because I couldn't before!" I joke.

"Oh yes, very funny. Keep your humor up, then. You'll need it to aid in your recovery," The doctor says, exiting the room.

After a long time just laying there, boredom easily more painful than the admittedly aching patches of recovering skin, I'm freed of my boring torment by the sound of a door opening. Oh god, it's Drop Kick. Hopefully she isn't as... Boisterous... With hospitalized ponies like myself. I continue to wait patiently while she drags in a giant glass keg of some sort of sloshing liquid.

"I'm here with the good stuff hero," The burgundy coated, curly-haired giant of a mare drawls, taking the mugs and a pair of straws off the top of the barrel.

"Erm, I'm not much of a drinker, M'am," I respond nervously as she pours out a mug of the glittering liquid.

She gives me a stink-eye that tells me as much as her words do, as she sips at the mug herself. "So what would you call last week, then? I'd love to find out what kind of pony _you_ consider a drinker, having seen that."

I groan at the memory of the celebration Glitter Bomb talked me into going to, and the copious alcohol consumption that followed. "I'd call it peer pressure and say that my behavior spoke for itself."

She laughs at this, stomping the floor uproariously. "Alright colt, I wouldn't pass up some pain-relief looking like you do, but if you want to act tough, I won't stop you."

I try not to pout at that.

* * *

As soon as doc says I'm good to walk around, I beeline my way to the dungeon that I had carved out to house our new resident, and begin a long winded explanation of just why we can't trade our secrecy for this dragon's freedom, ending with something a bit like;

"So, in short, my green, scaly friend, I quite literally cannot let you go free, since you'll just lead Sombra back here, one way or another. With that said, I have no intentions of mistreating you during your time here. I'll just need to know your dietary requirements and anything which might contribute to your health, and we can begin increasing the comfort of your accommodations," I explain to the extremely displeased dragon currently chained up in Cell Two's Dungeon.

"Frack that, I'm not about to be a prisoner for a bunch of dumb ponies who can't even fight fair," Redhot retorts, trying yet again to spray fire intense enough to let them break out.

The yawning fifty-meter void dug out in front of their face, however, prevents the flames from actually touching anything before they dissipate, while the royal cloth padded manacle around their neck prevents them turning it around to aim their fire breath elsewhere.

I decide that some stick is worth applying in this situation, before the carrot will take, and attempt to make the application accordingly. "If we fought you fairly, you'd be dead instead of waiting to be pampered. I'm certain that's not the alternative you were hoping for, though."

I then offer the aforementioned carrot in a manner of my choosing. "I'm more than happy to wait a while to start giving you a healthy chunk of our gems to eat, though, if you want to get miserable and hungry before your silly pride stops holding you back from accepting basic amenities."

Redhot snarls at this, but that doesn't dissuade me from continuing to speak. "So, diamonds or smoky quartz? We have an abundance of both, and not much use for them."

Their bitter face twitches at the mention of diamonds.

I keep talking aimlessly. "Also, do you prefer cushions or just a bed of gemstones? I'm... Fairly certain that crystal cloth is up to the task of dragon bedding. It's stronger than my armor, at least, and I only got lightly roasted by you wearing that stuff."

The dragon grins at this. "Then why weren't you wearing that instead, dumb pony? Not that I'm unhappy to hear that I got you."

This is my turn to be unhappy and defensive over my vestments. How dare he shit on my beloved and perfect designs. "Because I like my armor better. I made it myself and it's my favorite color."

Redhot doesn't respond for several seconds.

"I don't like cushions. My scales rip through them."

I hum at that. "Have you ever heard of a beanbag chair?"

At the dragon's negative response, I go on to explain. "You just stuff a tough sack, the "bag", full of materials, the "beans". I'm sure I can get some prototypes to you to test soon enough."

I stand awkwardly, and still vaguely in pain. "At any rate, I'll have some quartz and diamonds sent over shortly. Avoid harming my dudes, and you will receive privileges."

"Endanger their lives, and you die where you lay," I finish plainly, with no particularly strong emotions in my tone, after which, I limp out of the room and towards my office to handle the matters that my people have started putting together for me to attend to.

* * *

A young crystal filly with a mane comprised of red and yellow stripes and a dark grey coat sits on a cushion in her room, schoolwork on the table in front of her ignored as her thoughts roll around in her head like a cat nearly as angry as she herself is.

'Why won't anybody listen to me when I tell them that he's evil?' Her internal monologue questions as she looks to the shelves of books she managed to bring with her when her family moved here.

'Every legend, every story explains it perfectly! Ponies have a problem, and then some sly villainous figure tempts them with an easy solution, and then...' She dares not mentally voice the endings to those stories, so as to not imagine what Weiss Noir has planned. She just knows she has to find some way to stop him before it's too late.

She looks to a different section of her tiny, filly-sized personal library. 'I don't get it, he's using dark magic, and the magic tomes on that subject indicate he should be acting crazy and selfish, and yet he's somehow tricked everypony into making him their leader. If he were using mind control, there would be signs, indicators.'

She groans and thumps her head onto the table, before the hint of an idea appears in her mind.

"Wait... Wait!" She scrambles to her bookshelf, scanning through books to try and find a specific one.

"He's been forcing everypony to wear light amplifying goggles to see down here, instead of just using crystal torches, and his explanation that somepony could detect the torches is a bunch of nonsense..."

"It's got to be the goggles. Where is it... There!" She yanks out a yellow, gem studded tome labeled "Arcanogram Slim's Lens of Untruth: User Manual and Troubleshooting."

Flipping through the pages, she keeps speaking aloud. "Momma said that Weiss Noir seemed "Especially weak for a unicorn", but that can't be right, he just got finished trouncing a dragon! But if she only ever saw him through a carefully designed Lens of Untruth, instead of a violent, powerful dark magic using jerk-"

She flips to a page illustrating a pony looking through a spyglass, which displays a smiling red pony as being a frowning blue one instead through its perception-altering screen.

"She'd see a well-mannered, but weak-looking good-samaritan!" Her eyes light up at the revelation she had undergone.

Slowly, her excitement is tempered by the facts, however.

"Now I just need proof of my theory, and the only one here who hasn't potentially been influenced by a Lens of Untruth is..."

She feels her hair stand on end at the thought of interrogating a dragon, but clamps down on the feeling.

She's got a plan now. She'll expose Weiss Noir, or her name isn't Eclipse Flash!

* * *

As I listen to the well-dressed, official looking fellow explain in extremely verbose detail the exact nature of his request, on behalf of several ponies. I'm a bit shocked that they're even bothering to ask my permission for this sort of thing, but I'm not going to complain.

"So in short, sir, we're requesting that with the construction of Cell Three nearing completion, the various cells be given actual names," The individual in my office says, leafing through stacks of papers.

I mentally groan at this. "You do remember that the reason things are divided into cells is because we may need to abandon and evacuate one at any time, right?"

"Naming them might encourage attachment that would make an evacuation especially bitter."

He hums at this, looking through his notes. "Then an alternate proposal. Give the cells distinct names, and increase the amount of evacuation drills. The two will counterbalance one another, and-" He is interrupted as I stop him with a raised hoof.

"Alright," I say, admitting defeat when I realize his proposal must be a fairly popular one if he's grasping at straws just to convince me to implement it.

"I'll get to work on some names. There's no need to stress everyone with more drills just for that. Instead, I'd like you to relay my intent to push for more general and practical education for youths, and institute mandatory education for adults who fail a simple test on re-homing protocols. I'll leave the details of how this is handled to the teachers," I say.

"If they're going to grow more attached to their place of residence, they'll simply need that much more knowledge on how to smoothen the transition to a new one in the event of a cell exposure," I finish.

The stallion processes my words, before nodding and taking his leave after restacking his papers.

'This is a really bad way of handling things.' I think to myself.

I need a better way of figuring out what these ponies want, and then giving them the things that are reasonable. Right now, I'm basically just giving commands and then having to manually go from cell to cell to check whether ponies are satisfied with their implementation. It seems this is also similar to how they're used to handling governance, but I possess neither immortality, nor the time to play Sim-City micromanaging them 24-7.

Maybe some kind of voting and survey system? I mean, just because it sucks back home doesn't mean I can't take a few cues from it. As long as I just use votes to _guide_ my decisions instead of making them for me.

A mare enters shortly after the previous stallion left. One with a larger pile of papers.

I think I preferred fighting the dragon.

* * *

Hours later, I'm finally done with today's proposals and requests, and can get to my real job. Trying to make my magic use so potent and terrifying that I can deal with threats. That is to say, I'm fruitlessly trying to figure out how to use levitation, supposedly one of the most basic unicorn spells period. I have no idea what I'm doing.

I've tried focusing really hard, imagining invisible hands, and even meditation, but nothing seems to crack it, eventually, my frustration reaches a boiling point, and the small rock I was using for practice is flung into a wall by a shaky kick as I hiss in anger. This is so dumb. I've been just randomly stumbling into dark magic spells for over a month now, and I can't manage to pick up a rock?

Frustrated and defeated, I decide to make my rounds and check on the Black Flame firepit, to make sure it's still somehow burning. When I reach it, I see the usual gathering, with one major exception. One pony has taken charge of the venting circle, and is ranting to the crowd about how Sombra will one day pay for his crimes. I tune out the speech when it makes me realize something far more interesting, and finally makes me understand why the Black Flame hadn't needed me to refuel it this entire time.

It was somehow being fueled by the ponies themselves. I could feel it, something in the nature of the fire had changed since I had created it, if my black flames were a jug of apple juice, then what I now saw had slowly, over the course of the last few weeks, been turned into fruit punch, that is to say, there was now more of other ponies hatred in it than my own, feeding it without garbage or magic expenditure on my part.

Realizing how the flame had changed made me feel...

Huh. That's not a human emotion.

As I realized in this moment that yes, it would be logical to assume that I indeed have a physically different brain now, one whose similarities to human neurochemestry are probably coincidental at best, the unnatural emotion became stronger.

I received a few funny looks as I walked back to my room, but at the time, I didn't care much, and for a few hours, I just laid down and tried not to think too hard about how I assumed that my inhuman transformation didn't also affect my mind. Even if I hadn't cast a single spell, the chunk of me that I considered "Me" would still have been running on the wrong wetware.

Eventually, I managed to untangle and unpack most of the mental strain that my little moment of enlightenment had cost me, and I decided in a similar manner to the fox who couldn't get the grapes that I was better off not having to deal with the cavalcade of evolutionary fuckups that went into the human brain anyway, and that's the story I'm sticking with.

Having gotten my mental alibi for not having a psychotic break in place, I move onto trying to explore this mysterious new feeling.

None of the books I've managed to read so far refer to it at all, but I have my suspicions as to what it _could_ be, when in a book about magic unique to crystal ponies, I find constant references to a "natural" sensation, and the way the book explains it describes it as a feeling that a crystal pony has when they're observing something in nature that is acting the way they predicted it would. This feeling is described as an integral part of nearly all of the higher order spells for growing food.

So, evidence in mind, I decide to create and test my hypothesis. Crystal Ponies have an emotion which emerges from observing the natural world, and is required to cast their unique magics.

And the emotion that I felt came when I realized that my Black Flame had changed, and that emotion became stronger when I realized that _I_ had changed.

So I focus on the things that have changed, both to me, and around me, aim my horn at the training rock and...

My horn flickers a little bit in a white aura, and the rock wiggles with a few sparkles, before a hint of excitement ruins the entire thing, dropping it to the ground.

"Oh fuck me," I say, frustration boiling up in my mind at this, the latest of my failures, and the rock is flung out of the room in a flash of purple energy as the frustration mixes with the awareness of change I had already been feeling.

Normally, I would be excited to discover a new dark magic, but instead, I'm even more frustrated.

"Oh come on! This makes like four _dark_ spells I've somehow stumbled on in the past month, and I still can't manage the one normal spell that _babies_ figure out?!"

I sigh with disappointment. "Whatever, this is horseshit."

Considering my already frustrated mood, I decide to spend the rest of my free time channeling it constructively to practice this new spell.

I'll work on figuring out levitation when my mood improves.

* * *

Eclipse Flash decides that she's done enough preparing, strapped up with pots and pans for protection, and her book and quill ready to take notes, she slowly sneaks down the tunnel to the dungeon.

When she spots the two guards preventing ponies from entering the massive double-doors, she thinks for a moment that there might not be a way in. Luckily for her, though, she spots it. Two large carts, one filled with jewels and one filled with... Sacks?

'Now's my chance!' The filly thinks to herself when she sees the carts stop in front of the doors. Running as fast and quietly as she can, she scrabbles up the cart and under one of the sacks before anyone can notice.

She holds her breath and waits, before, after some chatter between the guards and the ponies towing the carts, the doors groan open, and she feels herself being moved inside. When the cart stops, Eclipse waits a few more minutes, just in case. Her waiting is interrupted when she feels the sack she was hiding under get pulled up and out of the cart suddenly, startling her.

She turns quickly to see who uncovered her hiding spot, before her face pales and her pupils shrink.

"Oh... Um, hi!" She says to the large, toothy, and absolutely massive green dragon.

The dragon's eyes narrow. "You know they said I could eat anything in these carts, right?" Redhot lies, making Eclipse's pots-and-pans armor rattle as she shudders.

"Please don't! I'm just here to... Ask you a few questions?" She hastily pulls out her book and quill.

The dragon does something that, in his mind is probably a non-threatening smile, as he puts his hand under his chin. "Well go on then."

Eclipse shakes her head to rid it of lingering fears. "Right! I need you to tell me how powerful and cruel Weiss Noir is! The safety of the Crystal Empire may depend on it!"

The dragon's forehead scrunches up in confusion. "That scrawny whelp? He's a coward and a weakling, trying to buy me off or something. Not exactly strong or cruel."

Eclipse's own face turns confused at that, before she realizes he must be under threat to keep Weiss's secret!

"That's a lie, I need the truth!" She demands.

The dragon smirks at this. "And just what would you be willing to get the truth, then?"

"Maybe... Get me out of these chains?" Redhot suggests, rattling the thick glittering cables holding him down.

The filly looks nervous at this. "You... Won't hurt anypony?" She ventures.

The dragon's smile widens. "I just want out of this dump. I've got a horde back home waiting for me, and this whole thing has been a bust. I'll tell you the truth if you help me get out of here."

"Mmm," She whines.

"Unless you don't want to know how "powerful and cruel" that whelp really is..?" They bait in response to that.

Eclipse Flash pulls out a pair of gem-clippers that she brought along just in case. "Ok, but only because you probably hate Weiss too."

It takes an extremely long period of time for one small filly to clip through dragon-sized cables, enchanted clippers or no, but she eventually snips the last part free, releasing their right claw so he can go on to rip off the rest of the shiny restraints.

Redhot rubs their neck to get the kinks out of it. "That's better."

He then turns his gaze down to the excited filly waiting for his answer. "So you want to know how mean and strong he is, right?"

She nods rapidly, making him nod as well.

"Well, it's really very simple."

"He's not nearly as mean and strong... As an angry dragon," Redhot says, grabbing the filly in one giant claw, prompting her to shriek and thrash.

At the sound of that, the doors open up wide enough for a troupe of guards to peek in, preparing to attack the monster.

Redhot holds out the screaming filly, "I've got one of your little pony whelps in here! Open the door and let me through, or I'll find out if crystal ponies crunch like their namesake."

His bluff works out marvelously for him, as the door opens up the rest of the way, and the guards back up with hateful glares.

"Yeah, that's more like it."

As Redhot slowly thumps through the tunnels, he slowly grows incensed at how his hostage has devolved into crying.

A few minutes later, when he finally reaches the exit, his mood is far from improved by the sight of that bastard, Weiss, standing in front of him like he can do anything about this.

"Well, if it isn't Weiss Noir. That's what this one called you, right?" He gently wiggles the sobbing filly around like a bobble head.

Weiss says nothing for a few moments, before chuckling.

"I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse," Weiss says.

Redhot just raises a scaled eyebrow.

"Let her go, and I'll tell you how to safely rob Sombra, and then let you go on your merry way," He continues.

The dragon responds. "And if I don't?"

Weiss shrugs. "I can't spare the ponies for an expedition or risk exposure to chase you down and rescue her, and fighting you head on will just prompt you to kill her to free up your claw for combat. So if you don't let her go, I'm going to kill all three of us by detonating the explosives in this tunnel."

Redhot, against all the reason he can muster up, almost sweats at that. "You're not that dumb. You even said it would kill you too, and the pony!" He retorts.

Weiss shakes his head. "You don't get it. If you walk out of this tunnel with that pony, then she's not coming back. By all definitions worth mentioning, she's dead."

"If I fight you and she dies, then that's that. And I might not even win. It's an unacceptable risk, since you might defeat me, and go on to expose the Shadow Realm, and I'll be unable to protect it, since I'll be dead or captured by you. Even if I won, I'd be ruined. Not a single pony in this place would trust me ever again, and I would no longer meet my own standards for leadership, I'll have effectively gambled away my soul for the chance of coming out on top."

"But if I kill all three of us right here and now, then you can't expose the Shadow Realm, and I can't be captured and forced to reveal any key information via torture or magic."

"The Shadow Realm _might_ survive the third option, and the second option risks total defeat."

"So go ahead and pick. Do you choose to live, or do you choose to die?" Weiss says simply.

The two stare at each other for what feels like hours, slitted reptilian eyes into blank, purple crystal.

Redhot can practically feel the exact moment his resolve cracks.

With a snarl, he holds his claw out to the side, and drops the pony held within, who scrambles into the dark tunnels behind them crying.

Weiss smiles underneath his helmet, and ignores the sweat matting his face as he stands aside to let Redhot through. "You chose wisely."

As the dragon slowly stalks past him, glaring back at the unicorn, Weiss continues. "Sombra's arrays can't detect dark magic. He probably had to see you with his own two eyes to catch you. As long as you're using some form of dark magic, you're invisible in the Crystal empire."

That said, Weiss pulls a black crystal out of a pocket on his side with the faint glow of levitation, tossing it to the dragon who catches it.

"That gem will unleash about three hours of dark flames if cracked or scratched."

"Have a nice day, Redhot the dragon. I hope we can do business on more amicable terms in the future," Weiss finishes as the dragon gives him an indecipherable look before flapping their wings and taking off into the distance.

* * *

After the dragon is completely gone, I pull my helmet off and through force of will, hold myself back from vomiting all over the floor as I wipe the sweat off my face and return my breathing back to normal.

'Note to self, rig the entrances with actual explosives instead of just lying about it,' I think to myself.

* * *

After a while getting everything prepared and everypony together, the Shadow Realm experiences its first evacuation. The ponies look miserable to be abandoning their homes to return to Cell One, and eventually move to the newly completed Cell Three, but Cell Two is a writeoff, now that the only dragon who knows about it is free to expose it.

Of course, telling the dragon that he risked exposing the entire Shadow Realm was a necessary part of my bluff. He probably wouldn't have bought it if he knew I could just collapse the entire section he discovered and move all the ponies elsewhere within a few hours if needed.

I collapse the railway tunnel between the Cells myself, flipping the switch that activates rupture drops in the ceiling, dropping massive stone after stone into the tunnel, in such a way that any invaders inside would be crushed if they were in it.

A few hours after that, the filly responsible for this mess is in my office, along with her parents, who look suitably ashamed of their daughter.

After hearing the whole story, I purse my lips and look the filly in the eye.

Her fucking name follows the exact same convention as every plot-relevant magic user in the show. Twilight Sparkle, Sunset Shimmer, Starlight Glimmer.

And now here's a filly named Eclipse Flash, who just snuck past my guards, released a dragon, and nearly got herself killed because she thinks I'm some cackling dark lord.

Well, I mean, by some definitions, she's right, but she also seems to think that's a strictly bad thing.

"So, then. Eclipse Flash. I'd like for you to speak honestly. Your honesty right now will decide your fate," I say dramatically to set the mood.

Her parents look suitably afraid, but I give them a sly wink that they pick up on immediately.

"You think I'm a villain, that I'm evil, right?" I question her, my glare piercing into her wide eyes.

She looks terrified, before she musters up all the bravery she can.

"Yes. I do. You're just hiding it from everypony until you can turn on us!"

I nod at that. "And nothing I say or do will convince you otherwise?" I ask, just to be sure, before moving forward with my plan.

"Nothing at all, I wont let you trick me like you did everypony else," She demands firmly, making her parents extremely embarrassed at her behavior.

I nod again. "Then I'm afraid you won't like what I'm going to do in response to that."

She looks a bit more afraid.

"I'm going to make you my apprentice. With your parents' permission," The parents in question look shocked at this, but nod in agreement when I turn to look at them.

They don't look nearly as shocked as Eclipse does, however. "No way! I'm not joining you, I just said I know that you're evil!" She shouts at me.

"Exactly. If I'm evil, you need to know every trick I have so you can beat me. And, more importantly, so when you do expose me as the devilish monster I really am, you'll be ready to protect your fellow ponies from anything that comes after me." I explain.

"So I'm prescribing to you this. Once a week, I'll call you to my office, and I'll personally tutor you on the functionality of every component of the Shadow Realm. And between those weeks, I'd like you to periodically write me reports on anything you learn from observing ponies who are enemies, bullies, friendly rivals or even just downright mean to one another. It is my belief that by studying the magic of... foeship..." I grin to myself.

"By studying the magic of foeship, you'll be able to easily dethrone me as the dark lord of this foul realm, without putting anypony in danger, like you did today when you tried to pit one of my enemies against me."

Her parents are trying not to laugh at this, while Eclipse herself finds her wide eyes igniting with inner fire.

"Fine," She belts out, crossing her forelegs.

"But when I grow up and figure out how to beat all your dumb tricks, I'll show everypony exactly who you really are," She glares.

I just smile at this. "I wouldn't have it any other way, my traitorous student."


	18. (Noir Report) Observations of Unicorn Utility in Moments of Frustration [Prestidigitation]

Entry #5, Day 35

My latest discovery in the arts of dark magic is a frustrating one. By this, I do not mean that it is difficult, or vexing, but that it is quite literally a spell that by nature requires frustration, and induces it. My independent research also leads me to believe that, sadly, this spell may not be possible for some, who lack an emotion which is evoked by the awareness of change. By combining this "Arcane" emotion with frustration, a spell can be cast which unleashes a sharp burst of force, one able to perform a variety of simple tasks.

It would not be unfair to call it the dark cousin of unicorn levitation. Where levitation is smooth and can be performed with grace, this spell makes itself known in only sharp jerks and even bursts of mundane flame as force becomes friction. The simplistic nature of this spell makes it useful for a variety of mundane tasks. To that end, I have decided to name this spell Prestidigitonium, after the delightful tales of famed magicians from my homeland.

Having learned it during a frustrating instance of practicing my levitation _which I have always had_ , my first thoughts were those of how well it could compare with it's cousin, and I attempted to lift and float various objects using it. These tests failed on most levels, as sustaining this spell is almost impossible, and even if it could be sustained for more than a sharp burst, it's violent wrenching of objects at high speed makes it unsuitable for extended use, unless you enjoy objects being flung at unreasonable speeds.

It is extremely useful to those with quick reflexes, however, as by using flashes of it, one can toss objects about and to where they desire them to be. It takes practice, however, or you'll simply be throwing things at high speed to places you don't want them to be. My bruised face attests to the fate of those who lack an understanding of momentum, the function of mass and velocity, and how it can be preserved between prestidigitations.

One thing to keep in mind however, is that apparently, the recoil from the prestidigitonium spell is applied to the user, and while it can be divided up and placed on any part of the user's body, it's still a concern worth mentioning, as the sudden application of recoil to the body when casting this spell on larger objects can induce injury. Managing the distribution and location of where the stress forces of moving an object are applied is an important component to mastering this spell.

As I'm sure my readers are considering even now, I feel the need to dash their hopes before they decide to experiment. This spell, as far as I understand it, cannot grant a pony the ability to fly. Even with careful management of recoil applied to the hooves, it would take more than four hooves to keep stable and safely manage the repeated heavy impacts. Even if they could, they would need impressive footwork just to sustain the flight, as they would need to kick in tandem with the spellcasting to gain height, and have the stamina to continue doing so for long periods.

Next is it's ability to create fire, as mentioned before. With only a minor alteration to the user's intentions, this spell can crudely influence the temperature of an object, heating or even igniting it, though employing too much power in the spell will simply cause the object to explode instead. This, while desirable in some circumstances, is not an intended part of igniting an object via prestidigitation.

Being a spell whose primary function is to emit various types of force, prestidigitonium is also capable of, with greater focus and power, tempering those bursts of force into the more familiar forms of physical impact, such as cutting an object, piercing it, or even spinning it. Though even my own record for achieving these effects consistently is spotty. I recommend to anyone who attempts it to first learn to prestidigitate an object with force from multiple angles, such as throwing an object with a spin, or crushing an object by applying two halves of force from two angles. By mastering this first, the caster will have less trouble with the precision needed to use prestidigitation to damage objects, without also flinging them about.

In theory, a true master of this spell could instantly perform tasks of phenomenally impressive transformation, as it's only limits are the power and skill of their user. Thoughts that I have had while testing it in various ways include the potential for carving objects, heating metal, changing the color of certain substances, creating puffs of wind or showers of sparks, or lighting and snuffing a room of candles at once.

The spell's flaws are many, from it's invocation of frustration, a thoroughly unenjoyable emotion, to it's requirement that the user know all that they wish done at once, as the spell functions so rapidly. But I assure you, it's potential uses are well worth the risk. Indeed, I hesitate to classify this as dark magic in more than the most academic sense, as the emotion it evokes is one that we all experience often, and one which rarely invokes foul deeds or thoughts in those who are mature and have dealt with frustration often enough. Furthermore, the spell only evokes frustration if your own natural frustration is not up to the task, as all the other spells I have discovered do. Ergo, one who is already frustrated with a task could then use prestidigitonium to aid them in that task, with no negative effects which I can discern.

Perhaps it would be reasonable to name a transmutation spell "Bibbity Bobbity Boo" to complete the set, should I discover one. Then again, that is a bit of a long name, so perhaps not.

I am certain that I'll come up with something suitable, if should I discover such a spell in the future.


	19. (Present Chapter 5): Time-Release Formula

Deep within the Everfree Forest, a cauldron bubbles within a hollowed out tree. Surrounding the cauldron are all manner of masks, ritual items, and most abundantly, bottles and bottles of potions and large urns of herbs. But the most curious feature of this strange abode is its sole resident, a Zebra, wearing golden rings around her neck and hoof, and with an expression of contentment that few individuals would hold naturally within the Everfree.

Her quiet singing is accompanied by the symphony of rustling brush and the chirping of insects as she slowly meanders around her home with ease and comfort borne of one living there a long time, easily maneuvering around the various floorbound pots to retrieve incomplete unguents and apothecarial goods to place in the cauldron, to create a mixture whose purpose is unknown, but presumably one that the zebra has in mind, making it.

Her careful brewing is interrupted briefly by a knocking at her door. A forceful, but not altogether impatient knock.

"Who is knocking at my door? ~ State your business, I implore," She asks, walking over to her home's entrance and preparing to open it for the visitor.

Said visitor pauses for an oddly long moment, mumbling to themselves, before speaking up. "I seek Zecora. ~ The master of alchemy. ~ I mean you no harm."

Is that Hayku? Zecora opens the door, unsure what to expect. What few expectations she musters up are dashed when she sees a figure that until today, had only been described to her in old, _old_ stories.

The ominous presence is somewhat broken up by the sight of the pony visibly counting out syllables to themselves before speaking.

"Just the mare I seek. ~ Did I interrupt something? ~ Sorry if I did," Weiss says.

Zecora stares for a moment, before waving them in cautiously, choosing her words carefully to not disrespect the powerful unicorn.

"What I brew is fine so far. ~ It can wait for Weiss Noir," She claims, walking inside and closing the door firmly when he enters her home.

Zecora drags out a straw mat for herself and the guest, nervously eyeing them constantly as they wait with an amiable expression. "I beg you, pardon the mess. ~ I haven't cleaned yet, I confess."

As she sits down, and, thankfully, he does too, he starts to state his business. "You can't help but think; ~ What reason I would come here ~ ...But you've _heard_ of me."

"Your homeland has none. ~ No tales about Weiss Noir. ~ We must share a friend?" Weiss probes conversationally.

Zecora shakes her head. "I know the one called Malusi. ~ My mother spoke of you, you see."

"Exiled for theft and treachery, ~ you trusted her, and set her free."

"Though she fought and robbed and bit, ~ you laughed and made a game of it."

Weiss's eyes widen at this, and he quickly musters his words. "She still walks the earth? ~ She made her fountain of youth? ~ Where does she live now?"

Zecora shakes her head sadly. "She spoke of her dearest friend. ~ Fondness held until the end."

"Of vital youth, she was not bereft..."

Zecora remembers the moment sadly. "A potion blew up, no trace was left."

Weiss's formerly hopeful face is forced back into neutrality.

"So she's _dead_ , then," He states the most obvious interpretation of Zecora's words, dropping the act. "A shame."

He shakes his head. "No matter. I have need of a master alchemist. I trust your mother taught you what she knew?"

The zebra nods. "Potions, brews, and alchemy. ~ She left her every skill with me."

"Good," He nods, before his expression becomes unhappy.

"But first, I need to know what day you planned on going to Ponyville this week. There are fates I won't allow the offspring of Malusi to suffer."

Zecora looks confused at this, before looking to her urn of hay. It _has_ been getting fairly low.

* * *

Celestia sits on her throne, bored out her mind, and anxious as to the events of the past few weeks.

"-Therefore, I believe the tariffs on gelatin imported from Hissrael shouldn't be decreased, but instead, increased further, we have no need for their goods when-"

It's enough to make her thankful for her mastery of Viceroy Visor's Viewtiful Visage spell, without which it would be much more obvious that she isn't actually paying attention to the latest scheme from her little nobles.

After she had accidentally rolled her eyes at Ambassador Fern two-hundred years ago, she had decided it wasn't feasible to keep a serene expression for all eternity without a touch of magical assistance, thousands of years of practice on poker nights or not.

'Ugh. I liked it better when it was called As-Nags. Saddle Arabians really knew how to hold-em.' Celestia thinks to herself as the pony in front of her rabbles on.

"-after all, even measly farmers can manage something as simple as increasing production of plants that are suitable substitutes for their highly unethical-"

Oh dear. She better take care of this before continuing the rest of her internal monologue.

"Chancellor Bitter Pill, I do hope you are not disparaging the practices of our dear friends, the Great Snakes of Hissrael," Celestia chides lightly.

"It would be unfair to call their methods unethical, when they are the foremost experts in medicine and lacusurgy in the world. Even a princess needs a touch-up now and again, as my visit to their facilities last year can attest to."

"Their work in the, and I use this word with the greatest of confidence, _ethical_ treatment of their donors and patients has revolutionized the field of carnivorous products and thaumaturgically aided catch-and-release hunting across the globe."

"That is to imply, Chancellor, that I am afraid I will have to reject your proposal on numerous grounds. The increase of tariffs on byproducts from Hissrael would cause great strain on the medical and confectionery industries, which would of course make difficult the continuation of the basal remedium cost act as the price of producing most medicines is made far greater."

The Chancellor is, against every bit of reason, logic, and over one-thousand years of Celestia's historic skill at picking apart these scams on record, stunned at her swift and brief dismantling of his proposal.

When he just stands there like a rube instead of getting the hay out of her court, Celestia's serene face doesn't express her displeasure sufficiently, forcing her to use polite words to finish the job.

"You have my _permission_ to leave, Chancellor, and I hope your day finds you well," She finishes gracefully, the flushed pony performing an act that "commoners" might call "running" as he vacates the room.

Finally, the last pony enters as the former one leaves. Celestia may have found it odd that this pony explicitly requested she be seen last, but supposed that it was not too unreasonable a demand at the time.

The cloaked figure slowly walks up to her throne, and when she speaks, Celestia's breath freezes in her throat.

"Hello, Princess Celestia," They nod, pulling down their hood.

"S-"

"Sunset? Is it really you?" Celestia says, with a soft tone seemingly intended to not make the phantasm before her disappear.

The unicorn shakes her head. "No. Well, not exactly."

The unicorn pauses, trying to gather her words appropriately for the ruler of Equestria. "I am Sunset Shimmer, but not the one you know," She explains.

"I come from a time several years in the future, where Equestria, and indeed, this entire world, has been destroyed, left a barren wasteland with no life."

Celestia is shocked at this, searching them for any deception, but finding none. "But how can this be so? How _could_ this have come to pass?"

Sunset looks nervous at this, and pulls out a scroll, one stamped in purple wax with a symbol that makes Celestia's annoyance rise. An emblem shaped like a horseshoe, with two small devil horns attached to the top, as though it were a headband.

"I was given this list of things that I can't tell anyone, and, well, that's on the list. All I can do is ask you, have you taken on a new student, and has she become the bearer of the Element of Magic, alongside her five friends who now bear the other Elements in a town called Ponyville?"

Celestia balks at this, but nods in response to her question, making Sunset sigh in relief.

"Then the horrific future I come from cannot come to pass in this timeline."

Celestia finds herself so very, deeply confused and wanting to understand just what is going on.

"Is there anything you _can_ tell me Sunset?"

She nods. "I can tell you what happened to bring me here."

* * *

She didn't understand. How could this have happened in such a short time? The minute she came through the portal, she felt a horrible, yawning emptiness from the world around her.

The castle she entered into was nothing but ruined crystal, with no traces to indicate that any ponies lived here.

It took her a day before she finally accepted that, for some reason, the portal back to the other world was not functioning at all, and that it had become inert the moment she left it. The magic in the land was too atrophied and broken to sustain its enchantments. It took her two days to realize that there was nothing left alive in this world, everything boiled and baked by the sun, which had been sitting in the sky unmoving since she came here.

It took her a week before she could no longer find food in this wasteland.

It took two weeks for her body to weaken to the point where she could not endure traveling any further.

And on the third week, she had been found by Weiss Noir, an individual who had survived this horrible world's fate by virtue of being sealed away the entire time it had been happening.

He explained to the starving Sunset that he had only two real options for her. He could give her a swift end, or, (and he explained that he really wasn't a fan of the second idea) do something extraordinarily dumb that may save her life.

She chose the latter.

When she did, he looked vaguely annoyed, but had soon dragged her into the melted slush of the frozen north, to a flooded cavern that he had dried with gouts of black fire.

Inside the cavern, in a secret room hidden away, he revealed the Time Machine to her, and explained his displeasure at using the machine for any reason, even as he wrote out a detailed list of things she both needed to know, and that she must never reveal.

By this point, she was too delirious to care or really listen to his ranting, desperate after the pain of hunger and the despair of seeing Equestria's cruel fate had crushed her former ambitions into dust.

He ordered her to make her way to Celestia, the one pony who both knew her and would be able to help her afterwards to determine where exactly it is that she ended up after using his faulty Time Machine.

He had a smug expression as he used a marker to draw the word "Hope!" on the side of the machine in English instead of Equish, something her dazed mind only vaguely noted as being unusual after years on the other side of the portal that led to the human world.

"Sunset Shimmer," He said, after manually shoving her into the cockpit of the machine and dialing it to take her to the Prime Timeline during the current era.

"There is a sizable chance that in the future, relatively speaking, events will occur that might prevent this timeline from ever existing, if time travel works that way. If that happens, you yourself may cease to be as well. I don't have a solution to preventing that here. This isn't your salvation, it's a bandaid. It could be years, or it could be tomorrow. Find Celestia, if there's a single pony on this planet who has had the time to crack the nut on paradox management, it's an immortal like her. And if she doesn't have a solution... Enjoy your time as well as you can, leave no regrets behind... And eat a ton of food."

"This thing is pretty inaccurate too. You might end up a few years behind where I'm aiming. If the world doesn't look like a shithole, crack that scroll I gave you and get to reading, because I don't want you pissing away the Prime timeline with more butterflies than absolutely necessary."

And those were his last words to Sunset Shimmer before the world beyond the cockpit of the Time Machine faded away, and transformed into an expanse of apple trees.

* * *

Celestia takes all of this in stoically, though all she wants to do is embrace her former student and not let go until it is time to lower the sun.

'I see. So Weiss awakens to find a world in which he cannot vex and taunt me with my mistakes, and settles for the next best thing.' She can't help but think cynically.

"It seems, Sunset, that even among the ponies I could have been in other times, I have still failed you in every respect," Celestia says morosely.

"I am afraid I have not spearheaded many advancements in the arcane arts of time manipulation, despite my extreme age."

Sunset dips her head at this. "Then what will become of me, Princess?"

Celestia stands up from her throne, unable to withstand the cold authority of sitting above her former student a second longer as she walks down and next to them, laying a wing over Sunset Shimmer's back.

"If there is anything that can be done, then I will _have_ it done. Even if it means dealing with _him_."

"If I know Weiss Noir, he has given you a password to ensure his compliance in this era. He loves to hear his ridiculous stories cited to him too much to do otherwise," Celestia states with confidence, surprising Sunset a bit as, yes, he actually did give her a strange password that he claimed would make him trust and help her...

"If I must go there myself and demand it of him, you will receive not only my focus, and that of those under my authority, but his as well."

She continues with something to lighten the mood a bit. "And a few years from now, when we are all laughing about this together, you can help me win over the Sunset Shimmer of this era as well when she returns," She smirks at her now-embarrassed former student, who inadvertently proved with her existence that Sunset is likely to make a return in this world as well.

Celestia has a strange thought for a moment, which she can't help but voice. "Did you say he wrote in... English? You could read his writing?"

Sunset nods at that. "Yes, he had written the word "Hope" on the machine, but it was in English, I don't know how he knew that language, I've only ever seen it used on the other side of the portal."

Celestia balks at this. Perhaps Sunset could read... That white book.

The one she had found in the ruins of the Shadow Realm alongside an ornate, unreadable copy of what she believed to be the Grimoire Noir, Weiss's famous primer on black magic.

Celestia then has a second odd thought which temporarily quashes the first one. "Sunset, you said you had arrived in a Time Traveling _machine_ , yes?"

Sunset nods at that once more.

"Where exactly did you _leave_ it?" Celestia queries.

Sunset shrugs. "In the middle of some sort of apple tree forest. I assumed nobody would find it there in the middle of nowhere."

Celestia feels a chill run down her spine for a reason she can't quite figure out.

* * *

A week after the events of today, in Sweet Apple Acres, the crusaders peek out over the edge of the weird cart they found and hopped inside of moments ago, spotting themselves walking up to another one of the weird cart. This prompts them to come to a realization as the other versions of them explore the device, and then accidentally activate it when Scootaloo falls inside and hits a lever.

They turn to each other, and, as if reading each other's minds, shout in tandem.

**"Cutie Mark Crusaders Time Travelers, Yaaay!"**

* * *

Celestia shakes her head. "Well, no matter. You have gone through a terrible trial, Sunset, wherever you choose to take your path from here, know that you have my support."

"But before any more of that business can be dealt with, I require that you accompany me to the royal doctor. You should know better than to consider apples alone a cure for malnutrition of your severity."

Chiding complete, the pair exit Celestia's throne room, a reunion years in the making, gratefully achieved years earlier.

* * *

Zecora finds herself uncomprehending of what exactly it is Weiss intends to do, considering that most of his rant had been about some sort of disrespect being inflicted on her.

This was an odd thought to Zecora, who honestly hadn't noticed. Being the daughter of Zebrica's Thiefwitch Malusi hadn't afforded her the best treatment among her people, and the strange cowardly behavior of Ponyville when she had visited each month had been a step up from that.

She wonders if the ponies think her ears are for show, as she hears loud whispering coming from a building nearby, which she looks over to. She spots one of them looking right at her, but they quickly duck down.

Shrugging, she decides to check a few spots for Sleepy Shoots, the plants sent into dormancy by ponies constantly walking over them being a valuable component in some of her potions.

Digging around, she doesn't find any this time, and eventually decides to simply leave when she unfortunately isn't able to corner some stammering shopkeeper to sell her some hay. A not altogether uncommon occurrence.

Looks like she'll be eating mushroom stew this month.

Surprisingly, it seems several ponies had been following her to her home out of sight. Something that hasn't happened to her since her time living in Zebrica.

"Applebloom?" The orange one says to the small one, before shouting further as she runs directly into a patch of Poison Joke.

"Applebloom, get over here right now!" They continue, dragging the small child behind them into the flowers.

Oh dear. Zecora had better take care of this before continuing the rest of her internal monologue.

"You pony folk, you must beware! ~ Those flowers' jokes are most unfair!" She warns, making them all scowl at her, except for the child, who actually looks down to heed her warning.

The orange one shouts at her, even as she's walking away. "You keep your creepy mumbo jumbo to yourself, y'hear?!"

Zecora opts not to respond to the bait, simply walking home. And taking an alternate route there to keep those ponies from following her and ruining her house of course.

* * *

The next night, Twilight Sparkle finds herself tossing and turning in fitful sleep as the day's memories run through her unconscious mind, and she recalls how everypony spoke of the Zebra and her evil curses.

When she awakes blearily, she walks over to her mirror to begin the day, spotting her messy bedhead.

"Maybe Zecora cursed my hair," She chuckles, combing it back into place.

When she sees what really happened to her, her amusement ceases.

"Or she cursed my horn!" Twilight shouts, looking at the now sagging and softened appendage poking from her forehead, spotted with blue spots.

Minutes later, she's scrambling through her library, turning out book after book searching for a solution.

"No... No! None of these books have an answer! Ugh! There has to be a rational explanation for this, an allergic reaction, a virus?!"

Before Spike can speak up with his own potential answer, she hears a loud, angry knocking at the door.

"Ugh, who could that possibly be at a time like this?" Twilight says, walking over to the door.

"I'm sorry, but I'm very busy right now, could you..." Twilight trails off.

The Master Sword teleports in front of Twilight automatically, but with her horn in the condition that it is, she fails to levitate it into her grip and it clatters to the floor.

Weiss ignores this, stepping forward with his draconic arms at his sides and an honest sneer on his face.

"I would have words with you, Twilight," He says, as Twilight backs up fearfully.

Spike jumps in at this point. "Hey, you stay away from Twilight!"

Weiss almost smirks at that, before levitating the dragon out of his way without breaking eye contact.

Twilight glares at him after seeing him manhandle her assistant. "What do you want, Weiss?"

Weiss shakes his head. "Simple. You don't believe that you've been cursed, I don't believe you've been cursed, and since meeting Zecora, certain information that has come to light has left me disgusted with your town's behavior towards her."

He clenches and unclenches his claw, visibly resisting the urge to perform an act of intimidation he'll regret.

"So you're going to do something for me that you're already willing to do. I simply want the process streamlined. You're going to go to Zecora for a cure, you're going to stop your friends from breaking into her home and accosting her, and then you're going to personally disperse every rumor about that Zebra that you discover to be untrue."

Twilight can't help but be weirded out by the villain's behavior. Why would he care what Ponyville thinks about Zecora? Why would Zecora have a cure for this?

Taking her pause for hesitation, Weiss continues.

"And if you don't, then Spike calling you Twilight Wiggle is going to be the least of your concerns."

Spike has to hold back sniggers at this, prompting Twilight to glare back at him for a moment.

"Let me assure you one last time. This is not one of my games. There are no tricks that I have hidden among my words, no truths I have spoken in this meeting that hold hidden meanings."

"I trust that your rationality and reason will win out over prejudice and fearmongering in this situation. And no, I don't really care if you tell your friends about this discussion." Weiss finishes, before exploding into smoke that leaves Twilight and Spike coughing loudly.

"Ith ath thuth!" Pinkie Pie shouts, bursting through the door with a swollen, blue-spotted tongue, followed by the rest of Twilight's friends.

"A thirst? Ahuhuhuh, I guess that WOULD lead to dry mouth!" Spike guffaws at Pinkie, and then even moreso at the rest of them.

Twilight questions her with concern. "What happened Pinkie?"

"Thecora, the puth ath curth on ne!" Pinkie explains, sputtering with every word.

Spike, in the line of fire, complains. "Say it, don't spray it Pinkie!"

Rainbow Dash crashes into a wall, her wings poking out of her chest instead of her back making her continued ability to fly somewhat impressive, despite its clumsiness.

"Ow! What she's-" She crashes into another wall.

"Ow! -trying to say is, Zecora slapped us with a curse!" She finishes before smashing into the floor, dazed.

Rarity blows a few of her massive, lengthy dreadlocks out of her face. "I'm in agreement, I'm afraid."

Twilight and Spike look at Rarity's new do' with no small amount of shock.

A tiny Applejack stands on a fully grown, blue-spotted Applebloom's back, shouting in a squeaky tone as she hops onto a table. "When I say I told you so Twilight, boy do I mean I told you so!"

"We've been cursed!" She finishes.

Twilight looks confused as she spots the two remaining individuals in the room. "But Gilda and Fluttershy look perfectly alright?"

Rainbow nods upside down from her place wedged inside a bookshelf. "Yeah, those two look just fine!"

Twilight decides to pose a question to the other two, to make sure of their health. "Are you two alright?"

Fluttershy shakes her head, while Gilda refuses to look anyone in the eye.

"Would you care to tell us what's wrong?" Twilight presses.

Gilda growls oddly, before speaking in a svette, silk-coated knockout of a voice that would make Jessica Rabbit envious. "No, not really."

Fluttershy takes that as her cue to speak in a baritone low enough to confuse whales. "We don't wanna talk about it."

Spike can take no more of this, and falls to the ground, helpless with laughter.

"This is hilarious! I mean, look at everyone, we've got Hairity, Rainbow Crash, Appletini, Spitty Pie, Flutterguy, Girlda, Applebloomed, and Twilight Wiggle!"

"Ha ha ha," Twilight laughs sarcastically. "Spike, knock it off. We need to figure out a solution to this!" Twilight grimaces.

Rainbow groans, plastered to the ceiling. "I think we'll find a cure to this curse at Zecora's place."

Twilight growls. "It's not a curse!"

Applejack nods. "We'll go to Zecora's place and _make_ her get rid of this hex!"

Twilight feels a migraine coming on, she just knows it. "It's not a hex either!"

While everyone else is arguing, Applebloom looks disappointed in herself. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't followed Zecora in the first place, none of this would have happened. I just gotta fix this," She says miserably, slowly plodding out of the room.

Applejack spots this, mumbling to herself. "Now where does she think she's going?" Applejack tries to jump over to catch her, but Applebloom's longer legs take her out of Applejack's reach, leaving her to plop to the floor as the age-altered filly exits the library.

* * *

At Applejack's behest when the others finally spot her, they group up and make the trek into the forest to find Applebloom and, most likely Zecora with her.

Rarity speaks up at the sight of Zecora's hut. "My, what a ghastly abode."

As they approach, Twilight looks uncomfortable at the sight of Zecora's odd decor, and of the Zebra herself singing in a foreign language to herself as she tends to the bubbling pot in the middle of the room.

"Now do you believe us, Twi?" Applejack states simply, from atop Rarity's head.

"Frightening masks, confusing incantations, a cauldron full of mysterious liquids?" Twilight asks rhetorically with a sigh. 'Not to mention whatever relationship she has with Weiss...'

"Everything does seem to indicate that Zecora is... _bad_. Or... what if Zecora is just making some stew?" She states hopefully.

Zecora takes this opportunity to add some words of her own, as she tests the fluid inside the cauldron with a hooftip. "I think its heat now should excel. ~ In solving the pony problem well."

Applebloom looks exhausted as she drags in a small pot of something which Zecora adds to the mix.

"Or maybe she's making something much worse..!" Twilight groans at Zecora's words, trying to figure out how that could be interpreted as something other than a threat.

"She's makin' Applebloom do her dirty work!" Applejack shouts.

"We gotta get her outta there asap!" Applejack continues, grabbing two of Rarity's dreadlocks and snapping them like reins, prompting the unicorn to jolt forward in shock, before bumping into Twilight, who blocks the way.

"No, something about this is off," Twilight says suddenly.

She thinks back to Weiss's words, and how he described almost this exact situation coming to pass.

"This _isn't_ a curse, and there's one way to prove it. By acting rationally," She says firmly, turning around, and knocking on the door instead of letting the others bash it down.

The rest of her friends practically squeal in fear at her ruining their element of surprise, before Applebloom opens the door.

"Oh, hey girls!" She says happily.

Zecora peaks over her shoulder with a faint smile. "Ahh, it is the ones that we await. ~ Come in, your woes, I'll soon abate."

Applebloom nods happily, confusing them all. "Yeah, I helped Zecora make a cure fer our problem, It's just an herbal bubble bath!"

Twilight looks confused. "If the cure is just an herbal remedy, then what's the cause?"

Zecora takes the opportunity to explain, elaborating on the warning she had given previously. "It is as I warned you there. ~ The leaves of blue are most unfair."

"So can somepony explain it in plain talk?" Applejack asks.

Applebloom decides to fill the part. "It's those flowers we were all standin' in. They're called Poison Joke, because they play little jokes on you!"

Applejack deadpans. "Little, huh?"

They all laugh at this.

Applebloom gets their attention. "Now come on everypony. That cauldron's the biggest pot Zecora's got, so we'll have to do it one at a time. I hate to say it, but bein' old sucks! I been tired the whole time!"

The laugh even louder at that, but before long, they all take a dip in the pot, one at a time, and begin the process of curing themselves of the affliction caused by the Poison Joke.

As Twilight dries off, she turns to Zecora. "Zecora, we need to talk. I think some ponies have been getting funny ideas about you that need to be cleared up."

When Zecora comprehends what Twilight is saying, and spots the sheepish looks of her friends, she becomes quietly grateful.

* * *

When Zecora returns home after a very exciting day in Ponyville, she spots Weiss sitting on a log nearby.

He speaks after a moment in silent thought. "Your day was good, yes? ~ I did everything I could. ~ I hope it was enough."

Zecora nods at that. "I know not what you have done, ~ but among my friends, I think you're one."

Weiss nods back with relief, and stops speaking in prose long enough to talk from the heart. "If at any time you need anything, any request at all, just contact me."

"My honor demands I do nothing less for my best friend's only daughter. What whispering embers of the Shadow Realm live on through me, they are your ally."

Zecora pauses for a moment to think about that, before speaking plainly as she shakes her head with closed eyes. "There is nothing now which I require, ~ if that should change, you'll hear my desire."

When she opens them again, Weiss is gone, as though he had never been there at all.

* * *

_Dear Princess Celestia,_   
_My friends and I all learned an important lesson this week: Prejudice can drive ponies to dark places, whether they are on the receiving or delivering end. And if you give in to superstition and rumors, you'll find even genuinely bad ponies standing up to call you out on it. There are few things that hurt as badly as someone assuming the worst of you, and there is nothing worse than missing the opportunity to make a new friend because you believed tall tales about the content of their character._

_Your faithful student,_   
_Twilight_ Wiggle _Sparkle_


End file.
